


The Inquisitor's Sister

by Era_Atisha (SJ_Holmes)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age AU, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, F/M, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Trespasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9413030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SJ_Holmes/pseuds/Era_Atisha
Summary: Atisha has lived with the abuses of clan Lavellan for longer than she cares to remember, her ventures in the Fade her only escape. A chance meeting with a stranger is about to change everything. ***TW's will be in author notes at the beginning of the chapters that contain them. I believe this will only be necessary in one chapter, though.*** Comments and constructive criticisms are welcome and encouraged!





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The lamp was beginning to burn low in Keeper Istimaethoriel's aravel. The dancing flame cast shadows on the walls of the large wagon. The walls were covered in bookcases filled with thick tomes. Some of the leather bound books had gold gilded elvhen script on the spines. There was a large table in the center of the wagon with even more books strewn across it. Some lay open within easy reach of the lone occupant, others were stacked in various piles.

 

A smile played across Era'Atisha's lips. The low light meant that the Keeper couldn't get mad if she went to sleep. The mage/templar conflict had forced the clan to forage in new areas, which meant that Atisha now had access to a part of the Fade that she hadn't explored before.

 

She looked down at the tome she had been reading, and slowly changing. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. It was some lore about Falon'Din, her least favorite deity. She saw things in the Fade that contradicted most of what the Dalish believed, especially about the gods. She spent most of her study time altering small parts of the lore at a time, so that it wouldn't be easily detectable. The only thing that she couldn't change was the information about the vallaslin, the part she wanted to change the most.

 

Atisha's hand went to her plain brown cheek. It was a strong point of contention between her and the rest of the clan, especially her brother. They viewed her lack of tattoos as an insult. It was the reason she would always be the clan second and never the Keeper.

 

She balled her hands into fists as she rose from her chair and left the Keeper's aravel. She had endured the torture since she was a child, and would endure it for however long she had to. But it would not do to stew over her treatment by the others in the clan.

 

For now, she was eager to enter the Fade and find escape with the wolf pack. She hurried to her own aravel, avoiding the common area at the center of the camp.

 

A couple of the hunters spotted her.

 

Atisha knew the sour looks. Her chest tightened and a lump formed in her throat. They had had a little too much to drink and were looking to cause trouble. She would have to lock and ward her wagon tonight. Not wanting to get caught in the open, and worried that there were other drunk hunters about, Atisha picked up her pace.

 

Once she was in the wagon, she locked the door and took a moment to look around, making sure no one had left her any surprises. She had one of the smaller wagons, since she lived alone. Her bed was to the back, the fore being occupied mostly by shelves filled with her journals and a few items she had found in elvhen ruins. Two chests held the rest of her possessions. The larger one had a few everyday outfits, a formal robe carefully wrapped in paper, a set of leather armor. The smaller one held her pens, ink, and blank journals.

 

It only took her a few minutes to rummage through everything. Satisfied that nothing had been tampered with, Atisha raised the wards. Then, she stripped down and pulled on a simple shift. She slipped beneath the covers and quickly fell asleep.

 

She entered the Fade in her wolf form and immediately joined the pack. The scent of a deer spirit, a buck, was thick in the air. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth. She could taste its fear, and it set her heart pounding. The breeze blowing through her red fur was exhilarating, and a wolfish grin spread across her face. She always felt more alive in the Fade.

 

The pack flowed through the forest, twenty-three deadly hunters. She heard all of them in her mind, synching perfectly as they thrilled in the chase. Alpha was at the head of the pack, leading the charge, with Atisha close behind.

 

She asked him to move away from the Dalish camp. Their dreams were already pulling at her, trying to bring her in. She did not feel like dealing with Dalish problems tonight. They could rot for all she cared.

 

Alpha was only too happy to comply. Part of the pack broke off. Some of them moved to the right and others to the left, herding the buck away from the aravels of dreamers. After a few minutes, they were in the open Fade.

 

Atisha was finally able to let go of her worries from the waking world. She immersed herself fully in the hunt and let the wolf part of her take control.

 

It was intoxicating.

 

She howled as she ran, giving voice to her exhilaration. The rest of the pack copied her call, their howls echoing across the Fade. Atisha felt other spirits tremble at the sound.

 

The wolves that had broken off continued to herd the buck, guiding it toward a hilly area. The hills grew taller until they were mountains. They entered a ravine and the pack fanned out so that the buck had no choice but to keep moving forward.

 

Finally, they came to a cliff face. The buck had no choice but to turn and fight. It lowered its head and brought its antlers to bare.

 

The pack surrounded it and began to circle. Alpha was the first to strike, nipping at its hindquarters to test its speed. The buck turned, driving forward with its antlers down. Alpha dodged them as another wolf spirit came at the buck from the opposite side. The buck was not quick enough to meet the attack. The second spirit sunk its fangs into the buck's flank. The buck reared up and bellowed in pain.

 

Its head was thrown back, leaving the neck exposed. Atisha lept toward the buck, going in for the kill. She could almost taste the flesh beneath her fangs as she flew through the air. Her heart was pounding so loud that she couldn't hear anything else. Time seemed to slow as she relished the moment just before the kill.

 

The buck's fear was at its peak. It knew that its end was near.

 

Something pulled her. The ravine disappeared, as did the buck and the pack. Atisha was no longer in her wolf form. She barely had time to bring herself into a tumble, grunting as she hit the ground. She rolled for a bit to soften the blow. When she finally stopped, she allowed herself to lay sprawled as she got her bearings.

 

The area around her was unfamiliar. There were crumbling pillars covered in vines and the walls were decorated with stucco murals. There was no ceiling for most of the structure, letting moonlight shine into the space. She was laying in thick, soft grass and there were a few trees growing in the space.

 

She groaned as she realized that she had been pulled into a dream. She had been so close to bringing down the buck. The wolf part of her growled in frustration. It felt like it had been cheated out of a kill, and she couldn't blame it.

 

She had been certain that there hadn't been anyone nearby. The crumbling architecture was definitely elvhen. Perhaps there was a ruin that she had not yet found in her wanderings? If she could reach it in the Fade, that meant that it was close in the waking world.

 

Atisha took note of her surroundings so she could begin searching for the ruin in the morning. For now, she had to find the dreamer and figure out what need was so great that it had pulled her from the hunt.

 

She rose to her feet, dusting herself off. There was something off about this dream, but she wasn't sure what it was.

 

The dreamer was close. Maybe seeing what he dreamt would answer her question.

 

She set off through the ruin, moving cautiously to remain undetected. She could sense spirits up ahead, several of them. Her brow creased in confusion. It was unusual to find a single spirit in a dream. The number that she sensed... it shouldn't have been possible.

 

It was almost like when she viewed a memory, but that just couldn't be. In all of her years, she had never seen a dreamer view memories. They couldn't.

 

Perhaps it wasn't a dream, but a domain. A few demons had tried to trick her before. Their set up hadn't been this elaborate, though, and they hadn't been able to pull her in. She had entered willingly out of curiosity.

 

Atisha rounded a corner, and gasped at the sight that greeted her. Her hand flew to her mouth.

 

A single elvhen man was sitting in a stone chair, watching as spirits relived the memory of a court dance that had happened in these ruins.

 

Her gaze fixed on the man as she slowly stepped into the room. He had a long nose set in an angular face with high cheekbones and a dimpled chin. Intense, narrow gray eyes were fixed on the scene playing out before him, a soft smile playing across his lips. His head was clean shaven, leaving a dome that shined in the moonlight. He wore a simple tunic and breeches, though they seemed to be made of rich fabrics, and a pelt was slung over one shoulder and tied at the opposite hip. He looked like he was in his early forties.

 

There was something familiar about him, but she could not place him. Perhaps she had met him when he was younger? That had happened a couple of times before.

 

Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached him, her unblinking gaze unable to look anywhere else. Both of her hands were now at her mouth to hide the gaping hole that it had become. Here was another who could view the Fade like her, and yet not like her. He still needed the dream. Did that mean that he had to sleep to enter?

 

She was walking through the memory, but didn't notice.

 

The man did, sitting up straight. His eyes widened as she came closer. She didn't realize that she had been moving until she stopped in front of him, her hands finally falling away from her face.

 

They stared at each other for several moments.

 

Atisha tried to speak, but couldn't get any sounds past the lump in her throat. The man appeared to be in the same position, his mouth hanging slightly open.

 

Her lips began to quiver and she could feel tears swelling in her eyes.

 

His aura read as elvhen, though he was hiding most of it. Demons had tried to hide their auras from her, but their base nature was always visible. She could try to see past the masking, but it was poor etiquette.

 

He was really an elf, watching memories in the Fade.

 

“I thought I was the only one,” she finally whispered, a sob escaping with her words. Her hand flew back to her mouth, as though that could stop her from bursting into tears. None in the clan, not even her brother, knew what Atisha could do.

 

The man rose from his chair and slowly approached. He circled her cautiously, examining her.

 

She turned her head to follow him, afraid that he would disappear for good if he left her sight.

 

“Not the only one, but few and far between,” the man finally replied. He stopped in front of her, bending at the waist with a hand at his chest. “I am Solas.”

 

She continued to stare for a moment, still in shock, then realized that he was waiting for her name.

 

“I'm Atisha.”

 

There was a long silence, but no awkwardness or tension. They both took in the presence of the other, trying to understand it. He had no vallaslin. At his age, that probably meant that he wasn't Dalish. There was no Circle Tower nearby, and they would have made him Tranquil if they knew what he did when he slept. He must have been an apostate, then.

 

“Are you alone, in the waking world?” he finally asked.

 

Atisha shook her head. “I travel with my clan.”

 

One of his eyebrows pricked up. “Oh? You have no vallaslin.”

 

Atisha shifted uncomfortably. She finally looked away as she replied defensively, “Not all Dalish have them.”

 

“Curious,” he responded, perking up. “That's not the impression I've gotten.”

 

“It is part of becoming an adult among the clans, but they must be taken on by choice and are not required.”

 

“And you chose against having them?” His head tilted to one side, as though she were some puzzle to be unraveled. “I don't think I've encountered that among the Dalish before.”

 

She shifted uncomfortably, again, as she gave her excuse. “Why bear marks to honor gods that don't answer?”

 

It was not the real reason, but seemed to be the most acceptable one among elves.

 

He smiled, bemused. “That's an odd sentiment for a Dalish.”

 

“I'm not like most Dalish,” she answered.

 

“No, I suppose you aren't.” His brows creased and he gazed at her with a strange look in his eyes.

 

Atisha did her best not to shift any more under that stare. She felt as though he could see through her, see past the mask to what she really was. Spirits, she hoped he wasn't trying. Being a Fade Walker was bad enough, but even the Dalish feared what she really was.

 

“Do you enter dreams often?” he finally asked, still looking at her oddly.

 

Atisha shook her head. “Not usually. But, this one was different than most, and I was curious.”

 

It wasn't a complete lie, but he didn't need to know the full truth, at least not until she knew more about him.

 

She looked him over, trying to decide what need had brought her into his dream. On the outside, he seemed just fine. Indeed, he had been enjoying himself before she had so rudely interrupted. She could have gazed into the strings of the Fade to discover her answer, but was wary about revealing too much about herself to this stranger.

 

Solas smiled, but there was pain in his eyes. “Then it is fortuitous that you happened into this area. Please, join me. We are missing a fascinating memory.”

 

He sounded excited at the prospect of sharing a memory with her. So there was something Atisha could do for him.

 

She looked behind her.

 

The spirits had continued to relive the memory as the two mages sized each other up. They must have missed out on a great deal, because somehow a duel between five people had started.

 

Solas held out his hand to Atisha.

 

She looked down at the outstretched hand with smooth palm and long fingers. It was such a simple gesture, but it had been so long since someone had offered it. Slowly, she raised her arm, placing her hand in his.

 

His fingers closed around her hand and he gently led her to the stone seat, which now had a matching one next to it.

 

Atisha raised an eyebrow at the additional seat. So, he had full control of his environment in the dream. Interesting. It was also interesting that he would give her an idea of what he was capable of in the Fade. Maybe he was offering an olive branch?

 

He helped her into the new chair before taking his seat. From there, they watched the spectacle unfold. It ended in the death of two of the courtiers, two others going to find a private space, and the fifth one staggering over to a servant, requesting several jugs of wine be brought up so he could drown his shame.

 

Atisha smiled as the spirits moved away. It had been an interesting memory. She should have payed more attention to it. She had watched numerous memories over her lifetime, but this was the first time she had someone else to enjoy them with. She couldn't help casting sidelong glances at Solas. She still couldn't shake the feeling that she knew him somehow.

 

“You seemed rather distracted,” Solas commented, the corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. “Is there something on my face?”

 

Atisha blushed, her cheeks turning a deep red. A lump was forming in her throat. She tried to clear it several times, but it took a few moments before she could speak. She had hoped that he hadn't noticed.

 

“I'm sorry,” she sputtered, her cheeks going even darker. She must look like a fool. “It's just that, well, have we met before? I have this nagging feeling that I know you.”

 

His smile spread further as he shook his head and chuckled. “I highly doubt it. I like to think that I would remember someone like you. But I sense something familiar in you, as well.”

 

She didn't think her cheeks could get any darker, but they were certainly getting warmer as she smiled in return. “Well, you're certainly a sweet talker.”

 

He chuckled again. “If you consider the truth sweet talk, then you'll find that I'm probably the most charming person you've ever met.”

 

Atisha giggled, covering her mouth. He had a sense of humor as well. He was literally the man of her dreams.

 

She stopped as she realized how relaxed she felt. How long had it been since she had been this... happy, content, at peace? Not since she was a child. Even then, she had been guarded in all of her interactions.

 

The waking world tugged, her body letting her know that morning approached.

 

She slowly frowned. She didn't want to wake up. She had found someone that she could be herself with. Mostly. He was sweet, but she needed to know more about him.

 

“And now a frown. Have I offended you so soon?”

 

Atisha shook her head as she snapped out of her reverie. He sounded disappointed.

 

“No, I'm sorry. It's just, morning approaches, and I have to go.”

 

She couldn't meet his gaze, now. She felt almost guilty about having to go. It was more than that, though. It was the whispers, the stares, the barely contained contempt. She could already feel all of it starting to weigh her down, again. Her shoulders sagged as she thought of how she would avoid the hunters today.

 

Solas put a hand on her shoulder, using his other to lift her chin, bringing her eyes up to his. They were moist, like he was holding back tears. But why would he be close to crying?

 

“I know the burden of living among those who don't understand you. It can be difficult.”

 

He was concerned for her? Dear spirits, how long had it been since someone other than Enasalin had showed interest in her welfare?

 

Of course, he probably thought that she was still quite young.

 

She smiled softly as she placed her hand over his.

 

“I know how difficult it can be,” she assured him. “I have ways of coping, and I'm not completely without friends. There's a spirit of Valor not far away. It's a little full of itself, but has led me to some of the more interesting memories in the area.”

 

“You are friends with spirits?” he sounded surprised, though not judgmental. His eyebrows raised as his eyes widened. Then, the smile returned. “Another pleasant surprise. Perhaps we can speak more tonight?”

 

“I would like that very much.”

 

She could feel her cheeks growing warm again, but did not mind. It was nice to find someone who could make her blush.

 

“I look forward to tonight, then.” He actually sounded like he meant it.

 

Atisha's smile widened as they nodded their heads to each other. She was looking forward to their next encounter, as well.

 

Then, she woke up.

 

Light was streaming in through her window as the sun rose into the sky. She could not wait until it set, again.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two  
Atisha dropped the wards around the wagon. Almost immediately there was a banging on her door. She opened it to find Enasalin standing outside, his muscular arms crossed and his long fingers digging into his dark brown skin.

“Who threatened you?” he demanded as he narrowed his deep yellow eyes and glared at Atisha.

“Good morning to you, too, Ena,” Atisha answered dryly, moving aside to let him in. “Can I get you something?”

Enasalin stomped into the wagon and slammed the door behind him. His angular jaw line was rigid. He huffed his way to the bed before sitting down roughly with a growl. The air was suddenly thick and the unrest was palpable. A long silence stretched between them while he glared at a spot outside the window.

“Good morning,” Enasalin finally grumbled and turned to look at her. “Now, who said what?”

“No one said anything,” Atisha assured her brother as she took a seat next to him, exasperated. “I was walking back from my studies and a couple of hunters looked a little too drunk for comfort; so I decided to be safe.”

Enasalin continued to glared at Atisha, his full lips curling up into a snarl on one side. “Which ones?”

“I don't remember. They all start to look the same after a few generations. And it was dark.”

“Then I'll just question all of them.”

“Drop it, Ena. You'll only make things worse.” She stopped trying to be nice about it, letting heat enter her voice. “It's been long enough that they just need another reminder of what I'm capable of.”

Enasalin continued to glare, but finally broke his gaze and scowled. He didn't stay sitting, either. He pushed off of the bed and began pacing the small area. “They'll ease up if you just get your vallaslin.”

Atisha's jaw clenched and her hands balled into fists around her sheets. She closed her eyes as she focused on her breaths, making each one slow and deliberate.

Enasalin's memory was just as short as the other members of the clan. He had renewed the plea for her to take vallaslin just a month before. It had only been three years since the last time, and five years before that. But it was the same arguments every time. This time, he had tried talking to her at least four times a day. What had changed to make him so vehement about it?

She prepared herself mentally. He would be angry, as usual. “How many times do I have to tell you, I will not mark myself?” Atisha reiterated tersely.

“For fuck's sake, Addie!” Enasalin exploded. “Why are you so stubborn? You should be our Keeper, not Istimaethoriel! You keep talking about all of the changes you would make. Get the vallaslin and you could make them. It won't make the hunters like you, but at least they'll respect you. Now it's like you're spitting in their faces. They're talking about exiling you!”

“They always talk about exiling me,” Atisha interrupted. She rose from the bed and slowly moved towards Enasalin. “If it isn't the vallaslin, it's something I've said, or some tale that I've questioned, or I corrected one of the elders. It doesn't matter what I do! They will always find a reason to talk about exiling me. I'm not going to compromise my beliefs to make them happy.”

Enasalin's fists clenched at his sides and his entire body shook as his eyes narrowed. “How can you call yourself Dalish? Why do you insist on contradicting everything you were raised to believe?”

The first time they had this conversation, Atisha's heart twinged at the confusion in his eyes. It used to pain her to hurt her brother. But after all this time, he still didn't understand that she wouldn't, couldn't change her mind on this. She wanted to scream at him what the tattoos really meant, to shake him until he understood. He wouldn't be offended if he knew that they were slave brands.

But she didn't say anything. She could never bring herself to break his heart.

He wouldn't believe her, anyway.

“I have seen too much of the truth,” Atisha finally whispered as she turned her back to him. Tears burned the corner of her eyes. “How can I not question lies?”

“It makes them hate you. It makes you a target. This generation... their worse than their parents, or their parents, or their parents. I don't know what lengths they'll go to.”

He was pleading with her now. It was the last of his arguments. Another week and he would drop the subject entirely.

Atisha smirked and shook her head. “You always say that. I don't think you know what lengths the others have gone to.”

Sunlight glinted in her eye. She looked out the window and noticed how high the sun had risen. It must have been an hour since she woke and now she was wasting precious daylight: the ruins could be as far as three days away. Atisha walked to the larger trunk and opened it. She proceeded to pull out a knapsack and pack a couple sets of her clothing.

“Are you leaving the clan, then?” Enasalin's voice was strained.

Atisha sighed heavily and rested her hands on the rim of the trunk. She turned her head enough to look at Enasalin out of the corner of her eye. “No,” Atisha assured him. “Not for good. I found a reference to a ruin that might be near by. I'm going to see if I can find it. Even if I don't, at least it'll give the hunters a few days to cool off.”

“Or plan.”

Another silence stretched between them.

Atisha pulled her supple armor out of the chest and put it on over her shift. The dark green leather cuirass easily slipped over her head. The leaf-shaped pauldrons rested lightly on her shoulders. She had cleaned the armor several times, but there was still a whiff of old sweat and peat moss permanently ingrained into it. The back was decorated with a gold leaf Tree of Life, branches stretching up with matching roots stretching down. The front was unadorned but had dark spots at the hips from the oil in her hands.

She ran her hands down the treated leather, stopping on the smooth spots. Her hands weren't the only ones that had created them. More tears threatened escape as she remembered the other hands resting on her body. She smiled as the memories of her late husband Darlen bubbled to the surface. She shivered as she recalled how those hands would slip down from her hips and sneak under the studded leather strips that created the armor's skirt.

Enasalin growled but helped Atisha by strapping the buckles at the sides. He was rough enough that Atisha snapped out of her revery. When it was done, he put his hands on her shoulders and kissed the back of her head. "I'll do what I can to calm the masses while you're gone," he assured her.

Atisha gripped his hand and turned to look at him. “Thank you, Ena. I'll be back in a few days, a couple of weeks at most.”

She pulled inks, pens, and a couple of blank notebooks out of the smaller trunk. Not many clans came to this area, so she would need to take detailed notes on everything she came across.

And then hope that the Dalish didn't misinterpret her notes, she thought sourly.

When Atisha stood and turned around, Enasalin was waiting, holding her staff out to her. “Promise me you'll be careful,” he beseeched her.

Atisha grabbed her staff, but Enasalin didn't let go. “I promise, Ena,” she finally relented.

He held on for several more seconds as he stared her down. He hated it when she went on expeditions by herself. He reluctantly released the staff and moved toward the door. He opened it for her and waited, the pucker still on his face. Atisha smiled at him as she walked out of the wagon, hoping it would alleviate some of his fear. Instead, his frown deepened and his smooth black eyebrows stitched together.

Atisha tried to push her brother and his nagging out of her mind by focusing on the camp, which was just starting to stir. 

Crafter Boranehn and his apprentice Halinan shouted to each other across the commons about the day's work. The scouts had found a source of iron bark only a couple of hours away. Boranehn insisted that Halinan practice making a simple bow, but Halinan argued that he was skilled enough to try something more advanced.

Atisha couldn't hear what he suggested because children screamed gleefully as they chased each other around the aravels. She stopped short as they ran past her. Their shrieks rent the air and drowned out all other sounds. It receded as the adults herded them towards the teaching area.

She didn't have time to wonder what muddied tales they would be told today. The smell of roast rabbit wafted through the air and made her belly grumble. Thinking back, she realized that she had missed supper last night. No wonder the rabbit smelled especially good this morning.

She also knew that she would find the Keeper near the fires. She needed to talk to Istimaethoriel about taking supplies for the journey. The last thing she needed was one of the hunters accusing her of stealing food stores.

As she approached, she could see several rabbits hung over the fire in various stages of cooking. She helped herself to some meat off of a finished one, as well as a bowl of oatmeal with some fruit. With breakfast in hand, she began searching for Keeper Istimaethoriel.

It didn't take long to spot the middle aged woman sitting on a bench in front of her aravel. She was having her own bit of food. She seemed wholly focused on her meal, but Atisha could feel the sharp blue eyes following her. Istimaethoriel was not happy about something, and that something involved Atisha.

“Fenedhis,” Atisha grumbled under her breath as she started towards the Keeper. Whatever it was, she hoped the Keeper wouldn't forbid her from taking some salted meat and dried vegetables. She could travel faster the less she had to forage.

Atisha leaned her staff against the wagon before taking a seat next to Istimaethoriel. It didn't take her long to finish off the meat and start on the oatmeal. She was too hungry to start the conversation, and she had no clue why the Keeper was upset with her.

Istimaethoriel gave her a sidelong look, but did not say anything. She finished her own breakfast before Atisha and set her dishes on the bench. Then she leaned back and closed her eyes.

Atisha took her time eating the oatmeal. She wasn't fond of it, but knew she needed the strength. It was better to get a good meal in before she left. 

When she finally finished, she stacked her dishes with Istimaethoriel's. She would take them to be washed in a bit.

“The hunters are growing restless,” Istimaethoriel finally commented. There was no emotion to it, just a statement of fact.

Atisha waited for the rest of what the Keeper had to say.

“They want to force the vallaslin on you.” Her forehead wrinkled and her brows knitted together. The crows feet around her eyes deepened and her thin lips turned down in a pout. “I remember what happened the last time such talk arose. I've tried to dissuade them, but it hasn't worked: the young never learn from the mistakes of their elders.”

Atisha sighed and nodded. She wasn't surprised. In fact, she was relieved.

It had been too long since the last confrontation and the tension in the camp had become almost too much to bear.

“I think that there may be some ruins nearby worth investigating,” Atisha began. “I was going to set out today to look for them. It'll take at least a few days, possibly a couple of weeks.”

Istimaethoriel remained silent and stared off towards the east. “How many hunters do you need?”

“I plan to go alone. I think it will be better for everyone.”

“Something we can agree on,” Istimaethoriel sighed. She turned to Atisha and examined her from head to toe. “Leaving won't stop the confrontation they seek, but it may delay it. I'll make sure you have enough supplies to last a week, but that's all we can spare.”

“I understand. Thank you, Keeper,” Atisha replied.

Istimaethoriel stood up and leaned on her staff. Her dark hair was starting to gray at the temples and more lines were appearing on her forehead. She shook her head and clacked her tongue. “I will try to calm them, even if I agree with them. You question our ways. Your lack of vallaslin...”

“I'm going to stop you right there,” Atisha interrupted. She rose from her seat and calmly collected her staff. “Enasalin has been repeating the same lecture multiple times a day for the past month. I don't need to hear it again. I am quite aware of how everyone feels about my plain face, and have been since the first time I refused. I came here to let you know that I was going to be gone for a while so you wouldn't send Netalin searching for me. Now, I'm going to get the supplies that I need and then I will be out of your hair.”

Atisha tried to remain calm as she walked towards the smokehouse. Hot tears stung the corner of her eyes; but not because of what the Keeper had said. The span between incidents had been longer than normal.

The younger members of the clan usually tried to do something: force vallaslin on her, force themselves on her, or both. Every time it ended the same way.

She displayed her power, reminded them that she was immortal.

It was something they should remember, but memories faded quickly in this clan. Within fifteen to twenty years, the new generation came of age and the cycle would start over.

Most of them minded the stories of Era'Atisha.

Her face is plain, but she is old. She questions our traditions, but she alone holds the most ancient of knowledge. Do not cross her, for she is more powerful than she seems. The wolves themselves obey her every word.

They feared her to some extent and usually tried to avoid her.

Others took it as a challenge. There was always at least one who thought he could tame her and bring her in line.

She could usually pick them out once they started going on the hunting parties. They would come back with their prizes held high, shouting at the top of their lungs about how brave they were. If she was at the fires, they would try to catch her eye and stare her down.

None had ever succeeded, but it let her know which ones to watch out for.

Next came the snide comments and childish names. Flat ear and Asha'alas were the most common ones. They weren't exactly imaginative.

Then came the threats: whispered warnings as she ate, dead animals left in front of her aravel, and blood smeared on her door. Once she had come back from an expedition to find her wagon ransacked. They had even been kind enough to leave a stool sample on her pillow.

Atisha always ignored them. It had been hard at first; but the years had shown her that it was the best course of action to take.

She had tried confronting them once, before she knew that she would live longer than normal. It had escalated quickly and one of the hunters was severely wounded.

It was the closest the elders had ever come to actually banishing her.

Since then she had let the hunters make the first move. She couldn't be condemned for protecting herself.

But the confrontation usually came before she got this frustrated with them. Leaving camp was as much for her own peace of mind as it was for theirs.

Inside the smokehouse she wrapped portions of dried meat and vegetables and thought about staying away for longer. She wanted to leave entirely, to escape the angry stares and judgmental whispers, but she had made a promise to Asha'belannar.

It wasn't wise to go back on a promise to the Witch of the Wilds.

She clenched her jaw and finished putting the wrapped food in her bag along with all of the utensils she would need.

Preparing for the journey soothed her a little. It meant that she was getting out from under the tension, that she would have some freedom, even if it was only for a few days.

The sense of calm quickly dissipated as she left camp.

Some of the hunters gathered to watch her. They whispered to each other as she passed, their lips curling up in snarls and scowls.

She knew those looks all too well.

Like the generations before them, they were planning how best to tame her. They would probably try it while she was out of camp.

Atisha continued on. She pretended that she hadn't noticed them. Instead, she kept her eyes on the path ahead of her. Her steps were strong and sure as she entered the forest, not looking back at the Dalish camp.

She was no fool, though. She was going to have to watch her back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for sexual assault and transphobia.

The trees were thick and tall, blocking out most of the sunlight. Atisha could hear a stream bubbling nearby. She moved towards the sound and found a meadow that was about a hundred yards wide. The grass was deep green and tickled her calves. Flowers of various colors dotted the area: dark purple, soft pink, vibrant red, shining yellow, and several others. Sunlight spilled into the area and glinted off the water of the stream, which flowed from a pool at the northern edge of the clearing and cut the meadow in half.

The stream was a welcome sight. In her rush to get away from camp and the glaring hunters, she had forgotten to fill her canteen. It also looked like a good place to gather edible roots, which meant she could hold off on dipping into her dried food stores.

She was hesitant to start digging without someone to watch her back, though. The tension between her and the rest of the clan was too high, and she had been caught unaware once.

Atisha didn't want to remember, but the images came to the fore of her mind anyway. She had gone out to explore a grove in the Emerald Graves with a clearing much like this one. She had been so young, then: only in her mid fifties.

She tried to turn her mind to the memories she had seen there, the Spirit of Valor she had conversed with; but it didn't work.

The nightmare never stopped once it started.

* * *

A soft breeze blew through the trees, the red and gold leaves rustling in its wake. A few couldn't hold on any longer and slowly fluttered toward the ground, only to be caught by the wind. They began dancing in the air and drifted away.

The grass was still green, but was growing brittle and gave a satisfying crunch under foot.

Atisha closed her eyes and smiled. She breathed in the cool air and picked up the scent of apples. Perhaps she would gather some to take back later. They would make an excellent birthday present for Ena's wife.

That was all for later, though.

The clan did not come to the Emerald Graves very often, and when they did, they didn't stay long. This was only their third visit in her life. She had maybe a week before they moved back out on their way to the Free Marches. It was barely enough time to view even a fraction of the memories she wanted to see.

Atisha set her basket down and nestled herself at the base of Elnora's tree, where the roots created a nook that was just the right shape. She opened the basket and pulled out her blanket. The thick wool was a little scratchy, but more than enough to keep her warm. The green and brown design was also good enough camouflage to keep most dangers from spotting her.

She laid down and pulled the blanket over her head, covering her completely. Then, she closed her eyes and slipped into the Fade.

As with everywhere else, it was a rocky wasteland. Statues and parts of buildings jutted out of the rock faces and created a surreal architecture. The sky was an ominous swirl of green and black with islands floating just out of reach. Off in the distance, she could make out the silhouetted spires of the Black City.

The scent of apples had followed her here, but now it was flat and dim, a memory of long ago. There was also a thick, wet smell of iron. It was much fresher than the apples.

Atisha barely had a chance to take everything in before she felt hands curl around her arms in the waking world. The fingers dug into her flesh and she was yanked out of her resting place.

She woke up as her arms were pulled behind her. She started to protest, but someone pulled a cloth over her mouth. She could only mumble angrily while they tied her hands and then the gag. Atisha whipped her head from side to side to take in who was attacking her. She found tattooed elven faces.

Faces that she knew.

Atisha growled at the three clan hunters.

One of them tried to grab her legs. He managed to get hold of one, but she pulled the other back just in time.

She tucked it up close to her chest. Then she kicked forward, smashing the hunter's nose.

He screamed and dropped her, reeling away from her and holding his nose. A trickle of blood began to run down face, staining his teeth and chin. “That bitch broke my nose!” he screamed.

Someone cuffed her across the face.

Her vision swam and her ears rang from the blow. It took a great deal of concentration to bring everything back into focus.

“Hold her down,” Broken Nose ordered.

They threw her to the ground, smashing her head against a tree root. One of them sat behind her and held her shoulders down while the other grabbed her legs.

A knot clenched Atisha's stomach. She knew what was about to happen, but was too dazed to fight back. She screamed, but her anguish was muffled by the gag. She frantically reached out with her mind.

Please, dear spirits, let there be wolves nearby.

The third hunter was standing over her, straddling her. His eyes glowed with elation and his lips curled up into a wicked grin as he unbuttoned his trousers.

There. An alpha with seven of his hunters. It was not the one she had met on their last visit. He was long dead. But it was one of his descendants.

Atisha sent images of her attackers, of the wolves taking them down.

He understood the message. He sent back an image of the wolves running towards her.

They would be there soon, but would it be soon enough?

The hunter's pants fell to the ground, pooling around his ankles. His smile widened as he stroked his cock.

“You and your sister need to be taught a lesson,” he sneered. “You insult the clan by refusing the vallaslin and not taking a new husband. She parades around, pretending to be what she isn't. What's worse, she's kept another woman from a proper man.”

Atisha squirmed against the hunters holding her, but that only made her hands dig into her back. She tried to kick her way free, to wrench her shoulders out of the vice grip. But nothing worked. She tried to look into his eyes, but her vision was still blurry from the blow to her head.

“Fight all you want, bitch. I will break you.”

A fourth hunter, someone she hadn't noticed, bent down with his knife and cut her shirt open.

She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. Inside she was screaming, setting them on fire, ripping out their throats. Everything that she wanted to do but couldn't.

The tearing fabric drowned out any other noise.

Atisha could feel the cool air tickle her breasts and play across her exposed stomach. She wasn't sure if it was that or the head wound that was making her nauseous.

A gray shape flew through the trees. The knife stopped, the hunter holding it letting out a strangled cry. Broken Nose screamed and disappeared from Atisha's line of sight. The other two hunters were shouting and stumbling away from her.

A cold, wet nose nudged Atisha's cheek.

Atisha turned her head, the motion sending a renewed wave of pain through her skull, and looked up into the yellow eyes of the beta wolf. She sighed with relief and rolled onto her stomach.

The beta didn't need guidance. It began gnawing on the rope and freed her quickly.

Once Atisha's arms were free, she pulled the gag off and sucked in a deep, slow breath to steady herself. Gradually, the world stopped spinning. She slowly rose to her feet and took note of every ache as she moved.

Her head wound still throbbed and she probably had a concussion. Her wrists and cheek stung from the abuses they had suffered. She grabbed the cut edges of the shirt and closed it over her bare chest.

The hunters were all pinned down by wolves.

The alpha snarled at Broken Nose, its teeth bare inches from the hunter's face. It sent images to her mind, the pack tearing the men limb from limb.

Atisha felt a grim sense of satisfaction about the thought, but knew that she couldn't.

The wolf in her wanted it to be done. They had attacked her, a member of their own pack. They needed to be made an example of. It growled inside of her, urging her that it was right.

Atisha growled back. She was the alpha in this relationship. The clan would be left vulnerable if it lost any of the hunters. She hated it, but knew that she had to let them live.

She straightened her back, standing to her full height, and glared down at Broken Nose with far more confidence than she felt. “This is just a small sample of what I am capable of. The next time you move to harm me, they will tear out your throats and feast on your entrails.”

She sent an image to the alpha, the wolves holding them until she could make it back to camp.

It huffed in acknowledgment and sent its own image, the beta accompanying her.

Atisha nodded once in consent, then limped away from the grove.

* * *

Atisha opened her eyes. She was on the ground, curled into a ball. Her cheeks were wet and her breathing was fast and shallow. Her stomach clenched and she could feel the bile rising in her throat.

She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up to her knees. The contents of her stomach forced their way out of her mouth. She heaved until there was nothing left, and then continued for a while longer.

When it finally stopped, she sat back and lifted her face to the sun. It amazed her that the memory still had such an effect on her, even after all these years. She took several deep breaths to calm the last of her nerves. Slowly, her mind and body stilled. She sighed and looked down at her hands. They had stopped trembling.

Atisha slowly rose to her feet and walked over to the stream. She waded into it, the cool waters whirling past her ankles. She wiggled her toes and dug them into the mud. It was simple, but helped ground her in the present. She took a few more deep breaths, then bent down and washed her face off.

There was a nudge at the edge of her mind. She saw an image, wolves waiting in the treeline, crouched and ready to strike.

Atisha straightened up and looked towards the trees. A pale gray wolf was just visible, and only because she was looking for him. She silently cursed herself. She must have sent out the distress call when she was stuck in the memory. They thought that she was actually in danger and had come to help.

She slowly approached the alpha and knelt before him, holding out her hand to him. He sniffed it, then leaned his head toward her. Atisha placed her hands on the side of his face and leaned her forehead against his. With their minds more intimately connected, Atisha showed him an image of time flowing backwards, season after season, to indicate that it was a distant memory.

The alpha seemed to understand. He sat back on his haunches and placed a paw on her shoulder. The sorrow in his eyes was evident.

Atisha dipped her head to indicate her thanks for his quick response.

He removed his paw and the look in his eyes changed to curiosity. There were images in her mind. The pack had been following her since the aravels had entered their territory.

She showed them images of the mages and templars fighting, the clan being forced to leave their usual territory.

The alpha huffed his disapproval of the fighting. She saw the pack trying to avoid it, as well. Members being attacked if they wandered too near the campsites. She saw men in templar armor beating the wolves, riling them up, then releasing them near the mage camps. Another image showed robed men and women at the edges of a glowing circle, the wolf in the center bombarded with magical energy.

Atisha's heart burned at the sight. It was one thing to attack your enemy, another entirely to abuse creatures that had no part in what was happening. A low, guttural growl escaped her throat. The alpha returned one in agreement. She now turned their conversation toward something more pressing. She showed the alpha an image of the hunters that had been glaring at her in the camp. Then, she showed the wolves following them, keeping an eye on them.

The alpha huffed once. In the next moment, a long howl split the air. His pack answered, their cries filling the sky. The forest rustled as five wolves left in search of the Dalish hunters.

Atisha lowered her head to the alpha in thanks. Now that Atisha had some help, she tried to push her worries out of her mind. She wasn't very successful. She stood and walked to the stream, but the alpha remained in the trees. He and the remaining wolves spread out to keep watch.

There were several cattails and other edible plants. She wasn't sure if she would have time to cook them, however, so decided to stick to the dried vegetables until she knew if the hunters were following her.

She sat down on a rock next to the pond and removed her pack. She pulled out the first vegetables she came across and started munching on them. She wanted to be able to start moving if she needed to.

Atisha had almost finished her small meal when the pack returned. She saw four Dalish hunters, the same ones that had been glaring at her when she left. They followed the same path that she had taken. From what she could see of their surroundings, they were maybe fifteen minutes behind her.

The wolves whined and shifted from one leg to another. The beta licked his lips. The tension in the air was palpable. The wolves didn't understand what the Dalish were saying, and so could not relay that information to her.

Atisha didn't need to know what they were saying, though. It was always some variation on the same theme: capture her and mark her.

She growled in discontent, her eyes glaring in the direction that the hunters would come from. She wanted to face them now so she could get it over with. But time had taught her that it was better to have the clan as witnesses.

It didn't let the hunters make up any stories.

Atisha stood up and grabbed her bag. She took a deep breath and focused her mind, calling on arcane energy. It was always a strange sensation, no matter how many times she did it. First, her skin started to itch. Then she could feel her hair being sucked into her scalp until it was the right length, leaving her with the sensation that something was crawling just beneath her skin. The hair changed from deep black to rust red while matching fur spread across her body. She loved this part the most because it gave her a beautiful, thick coat of red with a white under belly. She could feel something pulling on her face, then her nose and mouth merged and extended to form the muzzle, which was covered in white fur. The crawling sensation was her ears traveling up the side of her head, extending and turning to face the front. Then, her least favorite part. Her lower back exploded in pain as her tail bone lengthened to form an actual tail, tipped in white. She never understood why that was the only part that really hurt. Her nails grew longer and thickened as they curved down. At the same time, her fingers shortened and the skin thickened to form pads. The vast array of colors disappeared. She inhabited a world of grays, but could see and smell more clearly than in her elven body. What she lost in color, she more than made up for with scents.

All of this happened in a fraction of a second, the force of the spell creating a cloud of thick black smoke around her.

Atisha lept from the cloud before it could disperse, her powerful legs carrying her to the treeline in mere seconds. She sauntered up to the alpha and lay in front of him, her head bowed in submission.

The alpha sat tall on his haunches, his eyes roaming over her form. The seconds stretched out and she started to get anxious. But she knew not to rush the alpha. Finally, he stood and approached her. He licked her forehead and eyes, welcoming her to the pack.

Atisha slowly rose to all four and rubbed her cheek against his so that each now had the other's scent on them.

With the formalities out of the way, the alpha turned north and began running. Atisha and the beta fell in behind him, with most of the pack following them. Three remained behind to keep an eye on the hunters. Her connection, strengthened by the alpha accepting her into the pack, allowed her to see and hear everything that the wolves experienced.

Like her own vision, everything was in different shades of gray.

After several minutes, the hunters crept into the clearing, arrows knocked in their bows. They spent a long time there, examining the tracks that she had left.

The lead hunter, a man named Balin, knelt next to the rock she had sat on and ran his fingers across the surface. He held them up to his nose and inhaled deeply. His face wrinkled up in disgust, most likely from the acrid scent left by the spell smoke.

“She was here, and not long ago. This spot is still warm,” he finally told the others. He moved to the other side of the rock and squinted at the tracks there. “That explains the smoke. She's taken wolf form.”

“There's more wolf tracks, here,” another hunter called from the trees. “At least eight or nine, including Era'Atisha.”

One of the hunters tightened his grip so much that the wood of his bow creaked. His eyes darted around the clearing and his breathing quickened. He backed towards Balin in a crouch, his head whipping around at the smallest sounds.

“Don't some of the stories say that she controls wolves?” he asked, licking his lips. “M-maybe we should head back. They say that those who see her in wolf form never live to tell the tale.”

Balin snorted at the younger man's fear. “Then how are there stories?” he asked, jeering. “Besides, if that were the case, she wouldn't have a brother and she would be our keeper. Netalin said that she teaches shape changing to all of the clan Keepers.” His eyes wandered down to the tracks and his brows furrowed. “But some caution wouldn't go amiss.”

“It's also getting late, and we still need to hunt,” the fourth hunter sighed. “I saw some deer tracks not too far back. If we head out now, we should be able to catch up to it.”

“You're just going to give up?” Balin sneered.

“She'll come back, eventually. We can take care of it, then,” the other hunter argued. “She's gone this long without vallaslin. A few more days won't hurt anything.”

Balin growled and charged across the twenty feet between them. His hand shot up and grabbed the hunter by the throat as he pushed him back against a tree. His eyes looked ready to pop out of his head and he bared his teeth with a vicious snarl.

The hunter's eyes widened and he gasped, trying to suck air into his lungs. He fought against Balin's grip, clawing desperately to remove the hand from his throat. His toes dangled just above the ground.

The other two hunters slowly crept closer to the pair, their eyes flashing from one to the other. Their bowstrings were taut, but not fully drawn. They hesitated with the arrows pointed at the ground, exchanging glances.

“Every second that she is unmarked is an insult!” Spittle flew from his mouth with every syllable. “She has paraded around unmarked for too long, acting like she's better than us. She claims to be Dalish, but sneers at everything that we are, questions everything that we are. She does not show the gods their proper due, and I will not stand for it! Do you understand me?” He pushed harder against the hunter, the muscles in his arm bulging from the strain.

The hunter wheezed and nodded. His eyes rolled back in his head, which flopped to one side.

Balin released the hunter and backed away a few steps. He continued to glare as the hunter collapsed on the ground.

The other two ran to his side and tried to help him. They lifted him up by his arms, but he waved them off. He rested on his hands and knees with his head hanging between his arms. He sucked in deep breaths, coughing the whole time. Finally, he was breathing normally. He kept his head down, though. “You do realize that marking her means that she'll be our next Keeper, don't you?”

Balin's hands balled into fists and his jaw tightened. “That bitch will never be our Keeper. Istimaethoriel would have to name her as First, and I doubt that will ever happen.”

The hunter laughed, then winced. Slowly, he rose to his feet, using the tree for support. He looked Balin square in the eyes and snarled at him. “If you think that, then you are a fool. She was old when our great-grandparents were born, she has more magical knowledge than anyone alive. By the void, Era'Atisha trains every one of the Keepers, and has for generations. The lack of vallaslin is the only thing that has kept her from the position. Istimaethoriel would be a fool to hand the reigns over to Netalin with her eligible, and the whole clan knows it.” He paused for a moment and looked Balin up and down. “Well, maybe not the whole clan.”

Balin did not look so certain, now. His eyebrows knitted together and his tongue darted out nervously to lick his lips. The worry was evident in his eyes. “Perhaps we should speak with Netalin,” Balin finally conceded.

“A wise choice,” the hunter scowled.

They began moving out the clearing, back towards the camp and away from Atisha. They spoke as they went, but the topic had turned to hunting something other than her.

The wolves continued to follow them to make sure they didn't come back around.

Atisha sighed with relief. She continued to follow the alpha and the others in the pack. Perhaps this time wouldn't be as bad as some of the others.

It would all depend on Netalin, whether he was an instigator or had just been talked into joining the hunters.

She had not paid much attention to the Keeper's apprentice. She tried to remember what she could of Netalin. He was an intelligent boy and a quick study. Istimaethoriel had commented that he would likely need to start lessons with Atisha before too long. It usually took ten years of study under the Keeper before apprentices started learning from her. He was only in his fifth year, if Atisha remembered correctly.

She thought she had seen him staring at her a few times, but he looked away the second he realized she had noticed. Atisha had thought nothing of it, at the time. He wasn't the first apprentice to gawk at her, and he wouldn't be the last.

But that was all she could recall. Other than his intelligence, Netalin was an utterly unremarkable young man.

The alpha yipped, shaking Atisha from her thoughts. They had brought her to the pack's den.

It was at the base of a rock face with enough of an overhang that the whole pack could fit inside when it rained. More rocks were piled around the opening, which hid it from casual view. The trees weren't as thick, though, and gave the pack plenty of space to lounge in the sun.

Atisha focused her mind. With a puff of smoke, the transformation reversed itself. The sensations were much the same: pain as the tail contracted back into her spine, itching as the fur was sucked back under her skin and her hair grew out. Her face squashed back down to normal. The change back to her elven body always left her feeling disoriented. She regained the ability to see colors, but her vision and sense of smell was somewhat dulled.

Several pups ran out to greet them. They nearly knocked Atisha off her feet, they were so excited. A litter of nine cubs pranced around her and took turns jumping on her. When she knelt down, the cubs swarmed her and began licking her face. As far as they were concerned, she was part of the pack and they wanted to welcome her accordingly.

Atisha laughed, a deep laugh like she had not done in the waking world for a very long time, and let them go on for a bit. She reveled in the attention. How long had it been since she felt nothing but love from another creature?

After several minutes, she began to gently push the cubs away from her. Most of them took the hint, but two continued to sniff enthusiastically at her hair and lick her. Finally, she had to let out a low growl to assert dominance. The two cubs backed away, whimpering, then quickly joined the other cubs in a game of chase.

The alpha had watched everything. Once the cubs had moved on, he sauntered across the clearing and sat next to her. He looked into her eyes and they exchanged images. Atisha sleeping with the pack, hunting with the pack, the days going by. She was welcome as long as she contributed.

She bowed in thanks, then sent an image of her hunting with them, but leaving after a short time. Then, she shared her memory of the Fade ruins.

The alpha yipped in a low tone. He had seen them, not far to the north of the den.

Atisha smiled in relief. She had been going close to the right direction, then. That also meant that she was still within her Fade range of the ruins. Her smile widened. She would be able to see Solas tonight. Soon, she might even see him in person.

Her cheeks warmed at the thought.

She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present. She was far too old to be behaving in such a childish manner. Blushing at the mere thought of a man that she barely knew?

She decided to stay with the wolves for the night. It would be nice to run with them.

Atisha sighed as she moved into the den and set down her pack and staff. One of the pups began sniffing at the pack, likely looking for the dried meats. His persistence made her reconsider her choice. She snatched the pack up just before the pup leapt at it. The cub landed on its face in the dirt, making Atisha chuckle.

It huffed and shook its head, then got up. It turned to her, cocking its head to one side. She wagged her finger at it with a smile, earning an indignant yap from the cub. It continued to yap as Atisha put the pack on a high shelf, safely out of the cubs' reach. It growled at her, but quickly changed to a whimper. It stared at the pack for several more seconds, whimpering the whole time, before sighing and sauntering out of the den.

Atisha chuckled and shook her head. Then, she stripped out of the armor and chemise. She laid them on another high rock, with the chemise on top of the armor. Once completely naked, she crouched down and began the change.

She did not use the spell this time, instead letting the wolf spirit shape her body. The transformation was slower, but felt much the same as with the spell. This way, however, the wolf could more easily take control of her body.

Once the transformation was complete, she began stretching. Changing this way always left her muscles sore.

When she sauntered out of the den, the rest of the pack was waiting for her. The alpha watched her for a moment, then turned and bound into the woods. The hunters followed close behind, and Atisha gladly joined them, letting the wolf take control.


	4. Chapter 4

The Fade ruins looked much like they had the night before. The stucco murals were still crumbling and incomplete, the color slowly leeching out of them, and vines crawled up the pillars.

Moonlight glinted off of stagnant water in a broken fountain that she hadn't noticed earlier. It was small, a half-circle protruding from the wall with a faceless, winged Mythal statue. Vines had overgrown most of it and the paint and worn off ages ago, leaving only shimmering white marble. The right wing had broken off and toppled into the fountain, cracking the base.

Now that she was really looking at it, Atisha recognized the courtyard. It had been a summer home for Mythal: close to Arlathan, but not so close that it had been pulled in with whatever had happened to the city.

There was a stirring in the back of her mind. Memories surfaced and restored the ruin to its original grandeur. The lip of the fountain was inlaid with gold and marble, creating twining dragons. Bright emeralds set into yellow tiles lined the bottom, reflecting the moonlight. The statue was painted in vivid colors; maroon and silver for the gown and silver for the crown on Mythal's brow. Small, brightly colored fish swam through the pristine waters. The lawn in front of the fountain was carefully manicured, the morning glories kept in check to create a verdant green frame for the statue.

Two people sat on the edge, but their features were blurred. One was a woman, thick black hair contained in a bun at the base of her neck. Her skin was deep brown, almost black, and she had a muscular build, but that was all that Atisha could tell. The man was just as indistinct: brown locks cascading down his back and skin that was as pale as the moon. Even their clothing was hard to describe.

They leaned their heads against each other as they whispered.

“Tel'enfanim, vhenan,” the man said. His voice was distorted. The pitch and accent changed with each syllable. One moment it was a deep bass, the next a nasally whine, and then a melodious whisper. “Elgar'nan lan na revas.”

The woman shook her head. Atisha closed her eyes and could feel the tears sliding down her cheeks as she began to relive that moment. She could feel the warmth of the man as his hand wiped the tears from her face. His hands were not smooth, but not overly rough, either. His fingers slid across her lips and she could taste the salt on them.

“Ar daran Dirth'ena enasalin, Fen'elvhen. Ar dalan sule Erlgar'nan din'an.” She was sobbing by the end of the sentence. Her entire body shook and she felt faint. She fell forward, the man catching her in his arms and holding her close.

Atisha pulled herself away from the memory. One that wasn't hers, but also was. The wolf was not the only spirit that she shared her body with. There was also an ancient elf, Fen'U.

What few personal memories remained were fuzzy at best. Fen'U seemed amazed that she could remember the conversation at all. Before there had only been vague recollections of her crying into a lover's arms. Now that she was here, where it had happened, more had come back to her. Atisha could feel the anticipation in the ancient elf, something that never happened in ruins. But this place was familiar. If the conversation was any indication, the spirit was certain that she would remember more.

Atisha took a deep breath, her body still shaking from the anguish of the memory. Looking at her reflection, she could see the stains from her tears. She willed the stagnant water clean. The gunk and dirt disappeared from the fountain, leaving it pure and pristine. She dipped her hands in and cupped them, splashing the water on her face to wash away any evidence of crying. Once that was done, she willed herself dry. The droplets evaporated, disappearing into the air. It would not do to meet Solas in such a state, especially after their parting conversation the night before. She took several more deep breathes and slowly the muscles relaxed.

Part of her wanted to tell him how much she hated the clan, how she wanted to run away and never see them again. The pack let her escape from the daily grind; they had helped keep her sane all these years. But they did not understand her issues with the clan. She had tried speaking to Alpha about it, once. It had tried to help, but confessed that Dalish customs made little sense to it. The only advice it could offer was to stay true to herself and her beliefs, no matter what anyone else said.

Atisha had taken that advice to heart. It was why she still refused the vallaslin. It would have been so much easier to accept the markings, but Fen'U had sworn that she would never bear the brand of an Evanuris again. The ancient elf had endured too much pain and abuse. She couldn't even watch as others were marked. Her stomach would knot up and she could feel the bile rising at the back of her throat.

She closed her eyes and the screams of Fen'U's victims, the people she had been forced to kill while under the command of Elgar'nan, echoed through her head. Buildings burned around her and hot, sticky blood covered her hands. She looked up, her sword piercing the chest of a young child.

Atisha gasped and opened her eyes.

Though vague, the memories were powerful. She shoved them back and took several more deep breathes, but another image took its place. She stood atop a narrow plateau, her gold armor glinting in the sun. Across from her was a warrior in black. Though she could not see his face, she knew who it was. Beldoran, who had been like a brother when she was a child. They each raised their swords and rushed towards each other.

Elgar'nan's warning whispered in her mind.

“Loose and you will not be the only one to die.”

A serving girl was brought out, whimpering as she was brought before her master. Fen'U knew the young woman intimately well. Elgar'nan cupped her chin in his hand, sneering at her simpering. His other hand produced a knife from beneath his robes. He pushed the tip into her neck just enough to draw blood. The woman cried out.

Fen'U screamed as their swords clashed. The battle lasted so long, but neither showed sign of fatigue. Each blow was countered, each slash deflected. On they fought, the years stretching before them. Then, an opening. Her sword lashed out, leaving a red trail across his neck.

Beldoran slumped, but Fen'U caught him and lowered him to the ground. She lay him back and removed his helmet. His eyes stared into the sky, empty orbs that would never smile again. Fen'U hugged him close, slowly rocking as the tears ran down her cheeks. She screamed to the heavens, but no one seemed to care.

Fen'U returned to Elgar'nan's hall victorious but empty. She could not smile at the revelers around her, only scowl when they jostled her. There was only one face that she wanted to see. She pushed her way through the crowd, searching.

There. There she was. She had never looked so beautiful. She smiled and ran to Fen'U. But Fen'U could still see the mark left by Elgar'nan's blade. Their love could have gotten her killed. They embraced, and tears slid down Fen'U's cheeks. She knew that she would never embrace her again.

Tears slid down Atisha's cheeks. She sniffled and wiped them away, but more pooled at the corner of her eyes. A mother pleading for mercy, a fallen warrior clutching a purple ribbon, a new warrior cowering from her shouts. More memories clamored for attention, but she forced them back. She cleared her mind once more and took several more deep breathes. Her nerves slowly settled. She took one last look at her reflection to make sure there were no signs of distress.

Then, she cast her senses out, looking for Solas. She searched room by room, sometimes lingering where spirits played out memories. And there were many places in the old palace. She could spend months here and still not see everything that had happened.

There he was, in a small side chamber off of the ballroom. It was quiet, no spirits danced or reveled in this room. Curious, Atisha made her way through the ruin to the antichamber. She passed several memories, mostly happy ones. This place was full of merry singing and gleeful dancing, especially in the ballroom. As much as Atisha wanted to watch, it seemed her host had other plans for the night. She picked her way past the spinning couples to a small door just behind the throne. When she stepped inside, Solas was standing in the center of the chamber.

It looked like a waiting area. There were two luxurious blue couches and a matching arm chair behind Solas. They were circled around a dark wood coffee table that had a silver tray with two glass goblets and a matching pitcher. The wall was a dark hardwood and held scenic paintings in brilliant colors.

But Atisha's attention was on Solas. Her heart fluttered and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She couldn't help cracking a wide grin at the sight of him. A small smile spread across his own lips, making her heart leap into her throat.

“I began to fear that you were not coming,” he sighed with relief.

“I was repaying a favor. I'm afraid that I lost track of time. But you will have my full attention now.”

His smile widened. “The full attention of a beautiful woman? You tease.” He paused for a moment, looking over her. “I thought that we could learn more about each other tonight. You seemed hesitant to speak of yourself last night, so I thought that I would tell you a bit about myself. Ask me whatever you would like.”

He turned to the furniture and held out his hand to her. She slipped her hand into his and let him lead her to the couch. Once she was seated, he went around the table and rested on the other couch. He picked up the pitcher and poured a bright red liquid into both cups. Then he picked up his and sat back, taking a small sip.

Atisha picked up her cup and took a sip. It was deliciously fruity, with hints of strawberry and other flavors that she didn't recognize. Fen'U sighed as memories rose in the back of her mind: pleasant evenings in deep conversation with Fen'Harel, a pitcher of strawberry wine between them. Atisha smiled at the memories. Perhaps she had found her own Fen'Harel.

She pondered what to ask first. There were so many questions: where was he from, was he traveling alone, did he converse with spirits. Some were not appropriate for new acquaintances, like if he had any intimate partners. Atisha blushed at the thought. She definitely didn't know him well enough to ask that, yet. There was one question that burned brighter than the others, one that she had asked herself when she first realized what was happening.

“How are you able to view memories? I've been in several dreams, and the dreamers could only ever view their own memories.”

Solas chuckled. “An interesting first question.” He was silent for a moment, his eyes gleaming as though she were a puzzle to be solved.

“It is an obscure subject, not so flashy as throwing fireballs. When I was a young man, I lived in a small village with little to interest someone gifted in magic. But as I slept, spirits showed me the wonders of the Fade. I taught myself to dream with full consciousness and control. It was not long before I had explored all of the Fade around the village.”

So it didn't come naturally to him, and he did still need the dream. But if he had learned to control his dreams, had he learned more? Was it even possible for a dreamer to leave their dream?

“Have you ever been able to enter the raw Fade?”

A frown crossed his face and his brows knit together. “No. I have heard of mages capable of such a thing without Lyrium, but they have not been seen since the fall of Arlathan.”

His gaze was more calculating now. He sat up ever so slightly and his jaw seemed to tense. Atisha suspected that he knew more than he was telling, but also sensed that the line of questioning would lead him to answers she didn't want him to know. Not yet. She had to steer him away from it. Last night they had seen a memory from the ancient times, something one doesn't just stumble across. Did he know to look for it?

“Have you seen many memories of the ancient elves?”

Solas was slow to answer. He was still looking at her with a furrowed brow, his eyes narrowed as though searching for something. For a moment, she thought that he wasn't going to answer at all. He shook his head and relaxed back against the couch. “Forgive me. I was lost in thought. Ancient memories, you wonder? I have seen some, in the deepest parts of the Fade. But intact ones, like what we saw last night, are very hard to come by. It was a rare treat. I would not trade the thrill of finding a thousand year old memory for anything.” His face brightened into a smile as he spoke.

Atisha smiled at the notion. She had seen only a handful in her lifetime, but they were her most valued treasures. “I feel the same. What are some of the other places you've dreamed at?”

“I enjoy battlefields the most. I once dreamt at Ostagar and watched as the Wardens Alistair and Theron lit the signal fire.”

Atisha gasped and nearly sprung out of her seat. “I've been begging our Keeper to take the clan that direction. What was it like?”

Solas seemed surprised at first, leaning further into the seat with wide eyes. He stayed that way, mouth slightly agape, for several moments.

Atisha's cheeks warmed at her sudden outburst and she eased back into her seat. She couldn't help it. It was one of the most poignant moments in recent memory. Not two weeks before she had come across survivors of the battle who still had nightmares strong enough to pull her in. Their memories had only wet her appetite.

Solas had relaxed while she contemplated and his eyes had returned to their normal size. “One moment, I saw a weary veteran commander whose forces were about to be overrun. The next, I saw a sneering villain turning his back on his king.”

Loghain. The tale of his betrayal was infamous even among the Dalish.

Atisha sighed and tried to imagine it. Battlefields were some of her favorite spots. The veil was thin from all of the spirits pressing against it and it was so easy to slip through. The spirits were more than willing to share the memories of those places with her. The Fade was thick with roiling emotions and turmoil. So much of history was affected by some of the battles she had witnessed while others were lost to living memory.

“Not many women swoon at the thought of watching a battle,” he chuckled. “My curiosity is piqued, Atisha. Would you indulge answering some questions about yourself?”

Atisha was slow to answer. She had let her guard slip, and that had proven dangerous in the past. She would have to be extra careful with him. He had a way of making her feel comfortable.

“It is only fair,” she finally answered with a nod of her head.

“What made you want to study the Fade?”

A fair question. As he had pointed out before, it wasn't a common area of study. “I've always had a special connection to it. The Dalish could only teach me so much, and I wanted to know more. The first time I stumbled across a ruin... It was incredible. Once brothers in arms, they now crossed swords, a kingdom in the balance. King slayer one, darkness he brought, madness his adviser. The other born of no woman, destined to lay low the usurper, made a forest walk.”

A sigh escaped her lips as she recalled it. She stared off into the distance and a soft smile played across her lips. It had been the first memory she ever viewed. She had been terrified, at first, huddling under a bush as disguised soldiers marched past. Alpha had been there and reassured her that it was safe. It had said that the spirits would ignore her if she became part of the background. After that, her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. The tree clad soldiers were at the enemy gates, surrounding the castle. The battle that ensued had been magnificent. It was several moments before she shook herself out of her reverie.

When she looked at Solas, his brow was furrowed and his eyes narrowed again. Something she said had given him another piece of the puzzle. Too many more and he would know what she was.

Atisha cleared her throat. “Anyway, I learned more in one night than the Keeper had taught me in months. I tried sharing what I had learned with him, but he said it was nonsense. 'You can't trust spirits,' he said. He wouldn't approve of my friends.”

She scowled at the memory. It had led to yelling between the two. She had called him a blind fool, stubborn. He swore that she would never lead the clan. Her hands balled up into fists and her jaw clenched. He had been right about that, at least.

Solas placed his hand on hers and squeezed her fingers. She stared at their hands, not sure what to do. Solas seemed to sense her uncertainty and withdrew his hand.

There was a stretch of silence. Atisha realized she was still holding the goblet of wine. She took another sip and set it on the table.

Solas continued to watch her, his brow in that now familiar furrow. She was certain that he had her figured out by now. She had given him all of the clues that he needed.

“Tell me about your family,” he finally ventured.

“I only have my brother.” And a few dozen great-grand nephews and nieces. Their two older siblings had more than made up for the fact that neither of the twins had children.

Solas' brow relaxed and he set his goblet on the table. He leaned forward and rest his elbows on his knees. “Tell me about him. Does he have the same abilities as you?”

“No. He's a hunter, the best in the clan. He doesn't care much for the Fade. I tried showing him memories once, when we were kids. He freaked out. I don't think he slept for a week afterward.”

She laughed as she remembered the look of horror on his face. She had chosen their parents' wedding; a happy, simple memory. He had run screaming in the other direction and Atisha had been forced to chase after him. She had found him curled up in an aravel, rocking back and forth. She tried coaxing him out, but he only shook his head, even after she had banished the memory from his dream. After several attempts to calm him down, she had been forced to slap him awake. She had done her best to avoid his dreams after that.

“What about you? Do you have any family?”

His eyes softened and the corners of his mouth fell. Light glinted off of tears at the corners of his eyes. He turned his head away from her, wiping the moisture away. “No, no family.”

His voice was heavy and she could hear the lump in his throat that nearly choked off his words. She got the feeling that he had, at one time, but had lost them to something terrible. She hated seeing others in pain, so tried to steer the conversation towards something else.

“What else have you seen in the Fade?”

He did not look back, not right away. He was staring at one of the paintings, a vast temple highlighted against the horizon. When he finally turned back, he did so slowly, but the grimace had been replaced with a soft smile. A fire entered his eyes as he told her tales of memories in Orlais, Rivain, and even Seheron. He was monopolizing the conversation, but she didn't care.

Atisha could listen to that silky voice for hours.

And she did. Before she realized it, her body was tugging, ready to wake up. A frown creased her face. She had always disliked mornings. Now, the idea of waking up was more than a little frustrating. She waited until he finished his story about a dwarf leaving the safety of Orzammar for the uncertainty of the surface before speaking up.

“I fear that morning approaches.”

Solas seemed surprised. “So soon? I didn't think we had been speaking that long.”

She smiled at him. “Time flows differently in the Fade, especially when listening to such wonderful stories. Perhaps tomorrow, I can share what I have seen?”

Solas nodded in approval. “I look forward to it. Have a lovely day, Atisha.”

She wanted to stay, so much. It only made it harder to wake up; but she had to. She stood and backed away from him, taking in every detail as the dream faded. With any luck, she would see him in person before the sun set.

* * *

When she woke, Atisha took stock of her surroundings. If what the alpha of this pack had told her was true, she would reach the ruins by midday tomorrow by foot; however, she traveled much faster in wolf form. If she set out early enough, she could reach the ruins before dusk today.

She scarfed down some dried meat and vegetables for breakfast before the pups could steal some from her. With her belly satisfied, she grabbed her pack and staff and used the spell to change to wolf form. It allowed her to change her belongings with her and made for easier transport.

She thanked the alpha for welcoming her to the pack and letting her stay for the night. Then she sent an image of herself wandering through the ruins.

The alpha huffed once and sent an image of a wall crumbling and blocking off the passage, one of his pack trapped behind the rubble.

Atisha whined softly to show her sorrow for his loss, but did not back down on going. She promised to be careful.

The alpha growled—a sign that she would never be careful enough—but did not try to stop her as she left the den clearing. Some of the wolves did follow her, however.

She smiled to herself. She didn't mind the company and it would make watching out for her clansmen much easier.

Atisha kept a steady pace the whole day, stopping only long enough to catch a quick lunch. She didn't bother changing back, as it would mean dipping into her rations again. Instead, she and the mini pack hunted down a deer and shared the spoils.

Once the meal was done, her travel companions bid her farewell and headed back to the den and Atisha continued alone.

There wasn't much of interest out here, just dense woods, steep hills, and a few sudden cliffs. Roots and rocks jutted out of the ground. Tripping on one of them could easily lead to a twisted ankle. She picked her way carefully around the hazards, but opted for safety and slowed when she came to them. She also took note of her path so that she could find her way back to the clan.

Then, as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the forest, the first pillar rose up amongst the trees. Atisha stopped and resumed elven form so she could look at it more closely. It was a testament to Elvhen craftsmanship because the ancient writing was still clearly visible. It was a marker of the edge of the estate. The main building was about another half hour away.

Sighing, she resumed wolf shape and continued on her way. There was barely any light left when she finally came to the main body of the ruins. She changed back to her elven body so she could take it all in.

It looked just as it did in the Fade, crumbling with the once vibrant colors leached away to gray. The forest was slowly reclaiming it. Creepers had made their way up many of the walls, finding the cracks and widening them. Grass grew between stones in the walkways and heavy rains had washed away some sections of stonework completely. The plants had gone wild long ago and there were piles of rubble in spots. Crumpled towers marked where the vast gate had once stood. Now it was a twisted hunk of tarnished metal that hung off of its hinges.

Atisha walked past it, Fen'U's memories filling in the gaps of how it should have looked. The walkway used to be lined with carefully shaped topiary and intricate marble statues. The gate had been gold-plated bars with Mythal's insignia worked into the center. The palace was sprawling. The white walls and gold-colored roofs would glimmer in the sunlight.

The building seemed to be mostly intact, but the alpha's memory of crumbling hallways stuck with her. She could see where elements held aloft by magic had collapsed. That certainly explained why the ballroom was open to the elements.

Something was off, though.

She could feel the spirits that roamed here, pressing against the already thin Veil. There were small rips where they could easily pass between Fade and waking world. A few wisps pranced out of a rift just in front of the door, excitement coming off of them in waves.

It only confirmed what she had realized; no one else was here. No one else had been here for ages.

So how was Solas able to be here in the Fade?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the elvish, I used a combination of the Dragon Age Wiki page on it, and Katie's Best Guess at Elvhen on AO3.  
> Tel'enfanim, vhenan: Don't fear, my heart.  
> Elgar'nan lan na revas: Elgar'nan will allow your freedom.  
> Ar daran Dirth'ena enasalin, Fen'elvhen: I am an Arcane Warrior and Fen'elvhen.  
> Ar dalan sule Elgar'nan din'an: I will (be forced to) slay/kill/destroy until Elgar'nan is dead.


	5. Chapter 5

Atisha began to frantically search for signs of another person. Footprints, broken twigs, anything to indicate that someone else was here. She even conversed with the simple wisps. They trilled with laughter, but that was all she got out of them.

She staggered back and fell to her knees as the complete realization hit her. It wasn't possible. Mortals had to be within an hour of a place to dream there, and it was easier when they were in the ruins themselves. It had taken her literal ages to be able to reach the distances that she could in the Fade, countless nights stretching the boundaries. Even now, she still had to be within a few days walking distance of a place.

Worry began to gnaw at her insides. What if he really was a spirit? What could he possibly gain by tricking her this way? Perhaps he was a kind of spirit that she had never come across before. The Fade was full of things that defied explanation. And it was possible that he was a benevolent spirit, one who meant her no harm. But no spirit had ever been able to hide their true nature from her, no matter how crafty they were.

A spirit of wisdom once told her that sometimes, when mages died in the Fade, their spirits remained there, wandering in a never ending dream. Such a thing had sounded implausible at the time, but now she wasn't so sure.

Or maybe he just hadn't come to the main ruins themselves. Perhaps he was camping in the woods and only visiting the site in his dreams. It was possible that he had just reached the area recently and was trying to gather more information about the place before venturing inside.

There was another possibility. If she was able to travel further after only a few ages, how far would someone who had been sleeping for millenia be able to go? Could she have stumbled across an ancient elf? The only way to know for certain was to try and look past his masking, and there was no way to do that without him knowing that she was doing it. It would be like hitting someone's armor with a mace. It would leave some marks and definitely be felt.

And what would happen then? He would likely leave, that's what. And she would lose the first friend she had had in a very long time.

Unless she asked one of the pack to come with her. Wolf spirits had a natural ability to tell the nature of beings in the Fade, even if they were masking.

Atisha shook her head and quickly climbed to her feet. She was jumping to conclusions. It may be that he had not been to this part of the ruins, and that was why there were no signs of other people. The wisps could just be excited that someone new had arrived. They were easily excited, after all.

She would do a thorough search of the grounds before speculating about Solas's nature again.

For now, it was getting dark. She needed to find a place to bed down for the night. She approached the decaying front door. The intricate carvings had been worn away by rain and time, and Fen'U could only vaguely recall what had been on it. Something with dragons. Like the gate, the door was off of its hinges and askew, leaving a gap big enough for Atisha to walk through.

The inside was in little better condition: the marble floors were cracked and plants had begun to grow, reaching for the light that entered through the gaping holes in the ceiling. The mahogany railings on the grand staircase were almost completely rotted away. The carpet running down the central walkway was threadbare and moth eaten. Golden vases were scattered and tarnished while the crystal chandelier lay shattered in the center of the foyer. 

Atisha could feel Fen'U's pain mixing with her own sadness, doubling the anxiety that she felt. Her heart ached as she took everything in. While Fen'U's memories were sparse, she knew that this was where the ancient elf had gained her freedom. These grounds were where Fen'Harel had used his spell to remove the vallaslin for the first time.

This was where a revolution had been born.

That history, combined with Fen'U's personal history with the location, meant that Atisha would likely be able to view more memories of the ancients here than anywhere else. A sad smile played across her lips as she realized this. Perhaps being here would make the memories more clear. Perhaps she could finally remember Fen'Harel's face.

Already the pull of ancient memories tugged at her. Fen'U had come here many times with Elgar'nan as his personal bodyguard. Most of the time, it was to seek Mythal's help to settle disputes with another Evanuris. A few had been social calls necessary to keep up appearances. Each visit flashed through her mind: snapshots of Elgar'nan in different, increasingly outlandish clothing greeted by Mythal's chatelaine. Until the day that she arrived as a teacher, and a spy. The chatelaine had smiled warmly at her and bowed to her.

It had thrown Fen'U off. No one in Elgar'nan's house staff treated her with that kind of respect. It was reserved for members of the noble families. At most, she had only been given curt nods and firm handshakes. But here had been different. Here, she was referred to as mistress. The staff showed deference to her. She had frowned at the chatelaine and insisted that they call her by her name.

There had been a ball while she was teaching/spying. By this time, she and Fen'Harel had become friends. He had bought her a new dress to wear, her first piece of fine clothing. It had taken three servants to get her into the gown. She blushed as she recalled how quickly it had come off later that night, the first night of many that ended with her in Fen'Harel's arms. He would whisper poetry to her as he ran his fingers through her hair, his lips gently trailing down her neck between verses.

A drop of water, followed by another, and another, and another, snapped Atisha out of her reverie. The cool droplets were pounding against the roof, and she was standing beneath a large hole. She crossed the foyer and raced up the stairs. The large wooden doors leading to the grand ballroom stood closed at the top. She could still hear the rain pounding against it. Even with the doors closed, she could feel the dampness of the room beyond. It would be best to wait until the downpour stopped before venturing inside.

She backed away and turned to the left. If Fen'U remembered correctly, the living quarters were in that direction. There hadn't been as much magic used there, so it was likely that they were still relatively intact. She could also sense the thinness of the Veil from that direction. A thinner Veil meant less decay of the structure.

When she opened the door, she was relieved to find that she was right. She wandered down the hallway, checking in the various rooms. As she had suspected, they were fairly well preserved. The windows still had their stained glass with delicate workings depicting trees with branches spread wide. The drapes were mostly intact, but had a few holes where the moths had chewed through. The grand beds were still intact, their intricately carved headboards covered in an inch of dust that obscured the design. The mattresses, however, were falling apart completely. Good thing she had a bed roll.

She did a cursory check of all of the rooms on the first floor, looking for any sign of critters that would find her tasty. After finding nothing, Atisha decided to play it safe and stay near the entrance in case she needed to make a quick exit. She returned to the first room and laid out her bed. Even though it looked like nothing dangerous had taken up residence here, Atisha wasn't going to take any chances. She set wards around the room. Nothing would be getting in without her say so. Satisfied that she was safe, she crawled into her bedroll and closed her eyes, drifting into the Fade.

* * *  
Alpha was waiting for her, and it did not look happy.

It growled at her, sending images of the pack searching for her. They hadn't seen her since she had been snatched away during the hunt.

Atisha bristled under its rebuke. The connection to the pack would have told them exactly where she was, and they would have known that she was safe.

She raised her head high and glared down at Alpha. She sent it images of the ruin and Solas, of the two of them talking long into the night. Well, of him talking and her listening.

Alpha growled again. There was another image, of an adolescent wolf mooning over another wolf.

Atisha growled at it. She wasn't some young pup, and it knew that.

It sent another image, her staying there while he went and met with Solas. It wasn't a warning to stay away, just that it wanted to make sure he was safe.

Atisha was more than capable of taking care of herself, but that did not stop Alpha from being overly protective of her. She knew she would never hear the end of it, and it would be able to discern if Solas was some kind of spirit, so she curtly nodded her head to show that she would comply with its wish. But she made sure to sneer to show her discontent.

Alpha gave a muffled woof, then disappeared.

Atisha sighed and sat down on a rock outcropping. One of the younger wolf spirits came up to her, whining as it nuzzled her hand. This particular one never liked it when she and Alpha fought, which was fairly often. She stroked its head to reassure it that everything was all right. The young wolf stayed with Atisha, laying its head on her lap while she scratched behind its ears. It began panting and its tongue lolled out of its mouth. It groaned with contentment a few times. Time stretched on while she waited for Alpha to return. It felt like hours had passed before it finally appeared next to her. The young wolf lifted its head, ears perked up. Alpha gave a low grunt and sent the wolf on its way, leaving Atisha and Alpha alone.

It put its paws on her lap and lifted itself up so that it was looking in her eyes. Images of her and Solas talking and laughing together, with Alpha watching in the distance.

Atisha frowned at Alpha. The last thing that she needed was a chaperone, but she was relieved to have Alpha's approval. It meant that Solas wasn't some spirit trying to possess her, which lent more credence to the idea that he was an ancient elf.

One thing was certain: noble ancients were the ones who entered Uthenera, not the common rabble. They also didn't have the vallaslin. What they did have were ulterior motives, secrets, and plots. Plots that were selfish and meant nothing good for those they considered beneath them. That would explain why Alpha would be watching.

It got down and walked to the rest of the pack.

Atisha stood and searched the Fade. Because she was in the ruins, it didn't take long to find Solas's dream. She willed herself inside and appeared in the anti chamber.

Solas was waiting with his arms crossed, a bemused smile on his face.

“So, it seems we will have a chaperone.”

Atisha squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose to fight off the headache that was threatening. If he thought she was young before, what did he think now? She sighed and took her hand away from her face and opened her eyes. “Yes, well, Alpha can be... protective,” she lamely explained.

“Yes. It made it very clear that I am to show you only the utmost respect or it will rip my throat out.” He chuckled and uncrossed his arms, straightening his posture. His eyes glinted and he sauntered over to her.

Atisha's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “It... it actually told you that?”

“Oh, yes. The images were quite detailed.”

Atisha buried her face in her hands. “Spirits, Solas. I'm so sorry.”

He laughed harder. It was a deep, full sound. “Do not worry. I am familiar enough with wolves to know that this is par for the course. You are one of its pack, and it is only looking out for you.” He smiled warmly at her. It really was a lovely smile.

“Something I wish it would do less of.”

“You are full of surprises, lethallin. Tonight you were going to regale me with your tales of the Fade. I would be most interested in hearing how you came to be part of a pack of spirit wolves.”

Atisha blushed behind her hands. She slowly lowered them as she shook her head. “I don't actually... know. I've been with them my entire life. I can't even remember meeting them, I was so young.”

Solas knitted his brow together and the look he had the night before entered his eyes. More information that no one else knew. But if he really was an ancient elf, perhaps he would understand what she was. Maybe he would even accept her. It was too soon, though.

He seemed to sense her unease, because the frown was replaced by that soft smile again. He offered her his hand. When she accepted, he led her to the couches.

He dipped his head to her as they took a seat. “Thank you, for trusting me. I think I see at least part of why your clan does not understand you. I find it refreshing, actually. I did not think to find someone who shared my love of the Fade.”

Atisha smiled as the last of her wariness dissipated. “Nor did I. To actually be able to watch memories with someone... I can't tell you how much of a joy it is.”

Solas' smile stretched from ear to ear. “I understand that all too well. It has been a long time since I have had company. Now, enough from me. I want to hear your stories.”

He relaxed against the couch and Atisha launched into the retelling. There had been famous battles from the earlier Blights, duels for the hand of a fair maiden, and a few for a fair lad. She had witnessed the tournament where Ser Aveline broke the taboo of female chevaliers. There had been softer moments, too: a mother singing her son to sleep, her voice chasing away his nightmares; two lovers joining hands as they took their marriage vows in secret, uniting two warring houses; a small girl finding the courage to stand up to her bullies, her strength echoing across the ages.

When her body tugged at her, it seemed like they had just started. Atisha frowned, which wiped the smile from Solas's face.

“It's morning, isn't it?” he asked, his voice heavy with disappointment.

Atisha only nodded her head, bowing her head and gazing at the floor. She did not want the night to end.

He gently placed his hand on her chin and lifted her head so that she was looking him in the eyes. “Then I bid you a wonderful day, lethallin. I look forward to more stories tonight.”

The touch sent her heart fluttering and her breath caught as she looked into those beautiful pale blue eyes. She felt that she could fall into them and never come out.

He smiled softly and took his hand away, bowing ever so slightly to her.

Atisha returned the bow, “And a wonderful day to you, hahren.”

Without looking up, she woke up.

Light streamed in through a window, pooling on the floor around her. Something pounded rapidly in her ears. It took her a few moments to realize that she was hearing her own heart.

Dear spirits, what was she getting herself into?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

__

The servants' children ran through the backyard, screaming joyously as they played their game. An adult scolded them harshly to return to their duties. There was a ball that night.

* * *

Figures danced gracefully across the ballroom floor. The song ended and everyone applauded the orchestra. In the center of the room, a man kneeled before his dance partner, professing his love and asking for her hand in marriage. She ran crying from the room. Her father had already promised her to another.

* * *

One of Mythal's protégé's was getting married. The ballroom was decked out with bouquets of the brightest red and white flowers. Red silk banners spanned the distance between the pillars and the young man's family heraldry was on display behind the throne. Mythal oversaw the ceremony herself, smiling warmly at the beaming couple.

* * *

The new combat instructor was not going easy on the warriors. She yelled when they missed easy marks, when they failed to block the simplest blows, even when their opponent found an opening and knocked them down. What had once been a joy was now the most dreaded part of the day. Years later, her harsh training kept him alive.

* * *

The head chef looked at the bare pantry with dismay. The war had choked off their supply lines and forced them to ration everything. Even running on a skeleton crew, it was hard to feed everyone in the estate. Tonight's supper would be more of the same: a thin stew with a slice of bread. The chatelaine entered, barely contained joy on her face. She grabbed the chef's hand and ran, leading him to the front hall. It was full of crates and barrels. He couldn't believe the smells coming from them. He pried open one of the crates: it was filled with cheeses. The next had salted meats. Another was almost overflowing with flour and yet another had sugar. He leapt in joy, already planning out the great feast that would celebrate the reopening of trade routes.

* * *

Elgar'nan had refused her request for freedom, just as she knew he would. He had ordered her back to his main estate, giving her one night to say her good byes. She was staring at her open closet. The dress that Fen'Harel had given her was the only new addition, and it would have to stay. A tear slid down her face. She pressed her face into the bosom of the gown and inhaled. It still smelled like the lilac perfume one of the other women had lent her.

A hand gently rest on her shoulder. She looked back to find Fen'Harel there, frowning, pain in his eyes. He bade her to come with him and led her outside, past the training yard and into the carefully manicured hedge maze. He took her to the center and sat her down on the edge of the grand fountain. His hands cupped her cheeks, determination in his eyes.

If Elgar'nan would not grant Fen'U her freedom, then Fen'Harel would.

The moment the markings were gone, she gasped. She finally had full control of her actions and thoughts. She knew she would not be going back to the estate, and there was no burning at disobeying an order. Joyous laughter rent the night air and tears pooled at the corner of her eyes. Her heart soared and she felt light enough to fly. Instead, she stood and took Fen'Harel's hands, pulling him into a dizzying dance.

She was finally free.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW at the very end.

Chapter Seven

Atisha had gotten into a comfortable routine over the past several weeks. During the day, she explored the ruins and took careful notes of what she found. Sometimes she would stumble across somewhere familiar to Fen'U and the ancient elf would remember something. Even the smallest recollection brought her joy.

What she didn't stumble across, however, was any sign of someone else in the ruins. She even did a sweep of the surrounding forest in her wolf form.

Nothing.

At night, she would visit with Solas, but never brought up her suspicions. She wasn't sure how. Instead, they watched memories that happened to be going on. Other times, they would search out specific ones. And some nights they would talk the whole time, discussing philosophy or current events.

Atisha learned much about what was going on in the world through Solas, who seemed to have a great many connections across Thedas. The war was more widespread than she realized. She had thought it contained to the Free Marches and Antiva, but learned that it had spread through all of the southern lands. The clan would most likely have to continue going off their normal routes to avoid the fighting.

She had known that she was clueless about what was happening in the world, but their talks made her realize exactly how clueless she was. She had physically traveled from the Dales to Antiva, but had never seen any of it, only what was close to where her clan camped.

She had spent ages pining to explore the larger world, and the Fade, around her. But she had made a promise. Now more than ever, it felt like a shackle and the thought of going back to the clan was more than she could bare.

Solas seemed just as distracted as her when she first entered his dream. Tonight they went back to the ballroom to watch another dance. Unlike the other nights, neither Dreamer seemed interested in what was happening.

Atisha was restless. Her fingers drummed against the hand rest, her head propped up by the other hand. Her eyes slid over to Solas.

His gaze was far away, not focused on anything in particular. A frown creased his handsome face.

Atisha grunted and pushed herself onto her feet. She stood in front of his chair, hands on her hips. Solas didn't seem to notice. She growled and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of his chair.

He finally reacted, his eyes widening. “What are you doing?”

She didn't look back, dragging him onto the dance floor. “Haven't you ever joined a memory?”

“On occasion.” He relaxed and let her lead him.

The orchestra played a distorted waltz, the melody fading in and out. Atisha stopped in the middle of the crowd and turned to Solas. She placed her left hand on his shoulder and adjusted her right hand to the proper position.

They twirled and spun with the spirits, their steps easily keeping up with the music. A smile finally spread across Solas's face and the twinkle returned to his eyes.

Atisha returned the smile, laughing as he lifted his hand above her to spin her. When she stopped, his arm encircled her and he pulled her close. His smile softened and their eyes locked.

Atisha's breath caught. Unable to stop herself, she leaned in and planted her lips firmly on his. She could feel him tense up, so she pulled away.

Before she had gone too far, he pulled her back. One hand cradled the back of her head and brought her closer. His arm tightened around her. Then his lips eagerly found hers, sending lightning dancing down her spine.

Atisha slid her arms down his chest and grabbed the sides of his shirt, pulling him even closer.

His tongue pried at her mouth. She gladly opened wide and allowed it in. It danced around her tongue, the two twining together.

She pressed closer against him, but he suddenly pulled away.

Atisha stumbled, but caught herself.

Solas backed further away, pain in his eyes. “This isn't right. Not even here.”

Atisha growled. “Why? Because I'm Dalish?”

“No, it's not that-” He turned away.

“Because you're an ancient elf?”

Solas paused, his body tense. He didn't say anything, but didn't move away, either. Finally, without turning to look at her, “How long have you known?”

She walked towards him slowly. “I didn't know for certain until now, but I began to suspect when I arrived in the ruins.”

When she was close enough, she reached out and placed her hand on his arm. He didn't pull away, so she moved closer, leaning against his back. “I know that there's a chance you are only gaining my trust so you can use me. Alpha won't let me forget it. But it's a risk that I am willing to take. I've been happy these past few weeks, and it's been a very long time since I could say that.”

He still didn't move or speak.

Her grip tightened and she leaned her forehead into his shoulder. “Please say something.”

He placed his hand over hers, gently removing it from his arm and turning to face her. He didn't let go, instead bringing her fingertips to his lips.

“Since we're being honest, I had planned to ask you to become one of my agents. Someone with your abilities would be most useful. But as I got to know you better, my feelings towards you grew. The thought of loosing you...”

His free hand caressed her cheek and he leaned down, kissing her softly. It lasted only a moment before he pulled away again.

“You change everything. I'm no longer certain that I can ask what I would need to of you.”

Atisha smiled and leaned her head into the hand that still cupped her cheek. “Sweet talker.”

Solas chuckled, smiling warmly at her. “Only being honest.”

He wrapped his arms around her and leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed.

Atisha slid her hands up his chest and onto his shoulders, sighing heavily. “Now that I know your secret, it's only fair that you know mine.”

She paused, not sure that she could go on. It had gone unspoken for ages, something that would have certainly gotten her banished from the clan if they knew. She had been taught that people like her were unnatural. There was a word for it, Abomination.

“I believe that I figured it out,” Solas finally whispered.

Atisha snorted into his chest. “Of course you have.”

“Your abilities point to you being a Fade Walker. They have not been seen since for fall of Arlathan for one very good reason: they need a constant connection to the Fade in order to survive. You say that you have been part of the pack for as long as you can remember. That bond would have been enough to sustain you until you came into your magic, probably at a young age. The only thing that could have saved you from a slow and painful death is by having a spirit paired with you in the waking world.”

“I knew I should have been more careful with you,” she whispered.

Solas chuckled and squeezed her tighter for a brief moment. “I'm glad that you were not. I thought that the Fade Walkers would never be seen again. You give me hope that other lost abilities could be restored.”

He fell silent again, seemingly content to hold her.

Atisha was only too happy to let him. She wasn't sure how long they stood like that, her wrapped in his arms and leaning her cheek against his chest, and she didn't care. They could have spent the whole night like that and she would have been content.

“I am curious how you found a spirit to pair with. The memories must be quite... interesting.”

Her smile faded. She hadn't thought about that day in over an age.

“Atisha?” There was concern in his voice.

“I can show you, if you truly wish to know.” She didn't move, however, and silently hoped that he didn't want to know. It was a futile wish, though, and she knew it.

“I would, but I can tell that it brings you discomfort. I'm sorry if I brought up something painful for you.”

Atisha gritted her teeth and pulled away enough to look into his eyes. “No, you should know the whole truth.”

She took a step back and held out her hand. “Come, let us walk through my memories.”

Solas accepted it.

Stone faced, Atisha focused her mind and willed the memories into being.

* * *

A Dalish camp shimmered into existence, aravels and grazing halla strewn among the walls and pillars of the ball room. They were standing next to a campfire surrounded by children. A gray haired elvhen man stood next to the fire.

Most of the elves were indistinct, their features blurred. Only two children were clear, identical seven year olds with yellow eyes and long dark hair in two braids that reached the center of their backs. While one was bright and alert, the other was pallid and sickly.

“I thought you had a brother, not a sister,” Solas commented as he looked over the two children.

Atisha looked down at the healthier of the two, a sad smile on her face. “She died so that my brother could live.” Even then, Enasalin had known that he was really a boy. He had only told Atisha, terrified about what their parents and the clan would think.

Solas nodded his head and said nothing more on the matter. Instead, they watched as the scene unfolded.

An elderly elf was going on about something, his voice nothing more than a droning buzz. The young Atisha was slumped on a bench and slowly started to sway. She fought to keep her eyes open and sweat was beading on her face. Finally, she collapsed into Enasalin. Her brother cried out in alarm, trying to shake her awake and calling her name.

The images dissolved and were replaced by new ones. Now they were inside an aravel, the young Atisha tucked into bed with a damp cloth on her forehead. Her eyes were now ringed with red and her face was flush with fever. Her parents thought her asleep, but she had been awake for their conversation.

“Neron, what is happening? I thought she was past the fevers?” Her mother was worried, wringing her hands.

Neron shook his head and sighed. “Her magic has awakened, and her body is not reacting well. There is something different about her, but I can't pinpoint what it is.”

“I thought you only had dreams. How do you know she is a mage?”

“It's in her aura. I've never seen one like it before, though. Whatever her abilities are, they're making her sicker. I... I don't think we can save her, Vala.” He sounded very small, his voice quivering with the last sentence.

Vala began to cry, her sobs carrying the young Atisha into sleep.

They were in the Fade, now. Young Atisha was running through the crags, searching desperately for the one spirit that might be able to help her. She knew where it lingered and hoped that it would be amicable to advising her. She found it where she thought, it's visage that of a human woman, though it was pale and transparent.

“Wisdom,” she panted.

The spirit smiled softly. “Aneth era, da'len.”

The young Atisha collapsed next to the spirit and began to sob, explaining as best she could. The spirit stroked her hair and listened. When she had finished, it gently lifted her head.

“I can help you, da'len. There is a shrine at the edge of the Arbor Wilds where the right words can call upon one who knows what ails you.”

The spirit taught her the words and showed her how to find the shrine. Atisha memorized all of it, wondering how she could convince her parents. They didn't trust spirits, but they did believe in the gods.

That same night, she entered her mother's dreams and shaped them to her will. She conjured up an image of Mythal and had it repeat what the spirit had told her. Vala lay prostrate before the 'goddess' and lavished her with praise for bringing her this news.

In the morning, Vala declared to Neron that she had received a vision and knew how to save their daughter.

Atisha could only recall small bits and pieces, as she had fought to stay awake during the exchange.

“This is madness! I can't pack up the clan and take them hundreds of miles off of our route,” Neron argued.

“I'm not asking you to. Give me a carriage and a horse, maybe two hunters, and I will take her myself.”

“I will not allow this. We are going to loose her. We must accept that.”

“I will not accept it!” Vala roared. “So long as there is a chance that I can save her, I will fight for her. Banish me if you must, but I am not giving up on her.”

They argued for longer, but Neron finally gave in, assigning three hunters to accompany Vala and Atisha. It had been a long journey, lasting several weeks. Atisha had spent most of it sleeping. The pain followed her into the Fade now, but it wasn't as severe and the fevers seemed to lessen when she slept.

There had been a few tense moments passing through Orlais, but the trip was mostly uneventful. They found the shrine at the edge of the Arbor Wilds, just as the spirit said they would. Vala set the hunters to guard the front, then carried Atisha inside and laid her before the altar.

She repeated the words that Atisha had passed on to her. A cloud of dark smoke rose before the grand statue of Mythal and from it stepped a human woman. She wore studded red armor and carried a staff, her piercing yellow eyes taking in the two elves before her with no hint of emotion. Her dark hair was wrapped in red, forming two horns that brought a dragon to mind.

Vala bowed low. “Andaran atish'an, Asha'bellanar.”

“Rise, child. The People bend their knee too quickly.” Her voice was harsh with judgment.

Vala stumbled to her feet, but could not meet the witch's gaze. “Ir abelas.”

Asha'bellanar frowned deeply. “Your words carry much in them: hope, despair, anger. You blame your gods for what has befallen your child?”

“I blame them for not answering.”

The witch threw her head back and she laughed. Young Atisha still watched in silence, not certain what was happening. “You have fire. I see now where your daughter gets it from.”

Vala's head jerked up, her eyes widening. “You've been watching her?”

“I have,” the witch confirmed with a slight nod of her head. “She has great potential, and I can help ensure that she reaches it.”

Vala's gaze finally met the witch's. “And what must we do in return?”

“You can do nothing. This must be Atisha's decision, and hers alone. As such, it must be discussed in private.”

Vala shook her head. “No. She is too young for a deal with you.”

“And without it, she will not live long enough to be old enough,” the witch countered. “The sickness grows stronger and she will be dead within a few months. If you want your daughter to have a long life, you have no choice. She does.”

Vala looked down at young Atisha. She moved to the altar and knelt beside her. No words passed between them. They looked into each others eyes. She wanted Atisha to say no, but Vala did not have to live with the pain, the fatigue, the sickness. Any chance to be free of it, to have a normal life, it was worth any price.

Tears began to slide down Vala's face. She smoothed the hair away from Atisha's face, then leaned forward and kissed the girl's forehead. She rose to her feet, wiping the tears away as she left the shrine. Atisha and the witch watched her go, neither one saying anything until she was gone.

“A strong woman, your mother. Life has thrown more at her than most can handle,” the witch finally broke the silence. She turned her attention to Atisha, a calculating look in her eyes. “And for one so young, you have endured much, as well. Fate works in strange ways, bringing you here.”

“We each make our own fate,” young Atisha responded, matter of fact. “Circumstances may pile up, leading to a certain path, but we are the ones who choose whether or not to walk it.”

The witch laughed, full and hearty. “And wise beyond your years. Yes, I think this will work.”

Young Atisha fidgeted, her eyes downcast. She seemed unsure. “Can you really take the pain away?”

The witch crouched next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It is possible. The sickness you have is rare, and there is but one cure. A spirit must be joined with you, something that both of you must agree to.”

“What kind of spirit?”

“Usually, it is a wolf spirit. In your case, however, something else will be needed. The favor you must do in return for this requires knowledge that cannot be learned. There is a spirit that has this knowledge, the spirit of one that once lived.”

“But the spirits of people move on, to the Beyond. They don't stay in the Fade.”

“This one had many reasons to stay. The fact that she was joined with a wolf spirit gave her the ability. If you agree to this, you will be joined with her and her wolf spirit.”

Young Atisha's eyes widened, making the witch chuckle. “What will I need to do?”

“When you are older, I will come to you and ask you to retrieve something for me. I can say no more about it until that day comes, however.”

Young Atisha's face scrunched up as she thought, weighing the options in her mind. Agree to some unknown favor and live, or refuse and die a slow, painful death. She remembered the freedom she used to know in the Fade, the energy and strength of the wolf. “If I am joined with this spirit, how else will it change me?”

The witch nodded in approval, her lips turned up in a half smile. “You will have the memories of her life, what she has been able to retain, and like her, you will be able to take the shape of a wolf. You will have all of its strengths, and weaknesses, though in a lesser form as an elf.”

Young Atisha fell silent again, trying to imagine what it would be like, to feel that strength in the waking world. To run through fields and forests, the wind whipping through her fur. A single tear slid down her cheek.

It would be bliss.

“I'll do it,” she whispered.

Asha'bellanar smiled and began the ritual. A shining spirit appeared, Fen'U. She frowned at Atisha.

The moment the spirit appeared, Solas's body tensed. He didn't say anything, though, and his face was unreadable. But Atisha thought she saw pain flash across his eyes. It was only for a moment, and then they were as unreadable as the rest of him.

“She is only a child,” the ancient elf immediately argued.

“And the best chance we have. You will not last much longer as you are. You need a body. She needs a spirit to connect her to the Fade. Each of you will perish without the other.”

Fen'U still seemed uncertain. She strode to Atisha and knelt beside her, cupping her chin in her hand. A frown creased her pallid face. “A Fade Walker. You should not have lived past infancy. How is this possible?” She turned to look at Asha'bellanar, her brow knit together and her frown deepened.

“I believe it might be due to the pack of wolf spirits that took her in. But it is no longer enough to sustain her.”

Fen'U nodded slowly and turned back to Atisha. Her eyes roved over the young elf a little more, taking in her physique. “I fear that you do not fully understand what is happening, but I can sense your pain. If you are willing, I will bond with you.”

Atisha had already made up her mind. She leaned forward and hugged Fen'U. “I am willing,” she whispered into the spirit's ear.

Fen'U wrapped her arms around Atisha and began to glow. The light intensified, swallowing the two at its center. Atisha could feel warmth spreading through her. Then, when the light was at its brightest, she could feel another presence in her mind. She was a dominating personality, hardened from ages of brutality, but she kept her distance. She didn't know how, but Atisha could tell that they had only bonded enough to give her the connection she needed.

*You are too young. If we fully merge, my personality will take over and you will cease to be. I will keep myself walled off, for now. We will finish the process when you are older.*

But what they had was enough. The fever vanished and chills no longer wracked her body. The aches had left her bones and her muscles did not seem tired. Atisha stood slowly, testing her new found strength. She held her hand up to the light and turned it back and forth, examining it as if seeing it for the first time. She curled and uncurled her fingers. There was no pain.

Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, catching the sun. She turned to Asha'bellanar and ran to her, throwing herself at the woman and wrapping her arms around her waist. She cried joyfully into the witch's armor and Asha'bellanar smoothed her hair.

“I have one last favor to ask. It is imperative that you remain safe until I call for you. I would ask that you stay with your clan till that time.” 

Atisha nodded and moved away enough to look up at the witch's face.

Asha'bellanar cupped the girl's cheek and smiled. “Just remember, child, there will be a price for this gift. If you are unwilling to pay when the time comes, it will be removed.”

Atisha nodded again, but didn't let go. She knew that she would be willing to do whatever was necessary to return the favor.

Finally, Asha'bellanar gently pried free of the embrace. She backed away from Atisha, smiling as she went. Then there was a puff of smoke and a Great Dragon appeared in her place. It spread its wings and raised its head, letting out a mighty roar before springing into the sky.

Vala came sprinting back into the shrine, her eyes wide with terror as the dragon circled over head. She ran to Atisha and stood in front of her, sword drawn. But after that day, she never looked at Atisha the same way again. Love was still there, now tinged with wariness.

The memory faded, leaving Atisha and Solas alone in the ball room. He had not moved after Fen'U appeared, and she wondered if he had changed his mind about her. She didn't press him to say anything, instead giving him space.

Finally, slowly, he turned to look at her, tears streaking down his cheeks. His hand came up to her face. The pain was back in his eyes, though now there looked to be a hint of hope, as well. His breath caught and he brought his other hand up to her other cheek.

“I should have known it was you,” he whispered. His head shot forward and his lips sealed over hers. There was hunger in this kiss, a longing that was finally satiated.

When they separated, it was just enough for him to whisper, “Fen'U.”

Atisha froze. The spirit's name had never been mentioned out loud in the memory. The only way he could know was if he had met Fen'U before.

Realization slowly dawned on her. Strawberry wine and long talks. Passion for knowledge and learning. Friends with spirits and love of the Fade.

Atisha gasped, her hands covering her mouth. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Fen'U cried out a single word in her mind. Atisha took her hands away from her face, fighting back sobs. “Fenan,” she whispered.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him closer, into another kiss. Their limbs wrapped around each other and they slowly lowered to the ground. Atisha eased onto her back, Solas hovering over her.

He settled himself between her legs, his hands working their way under her shirt. Electric currents surged through her body wherever he touched. His mouth moved down her chin and onto her neck, the touch sending spasms down her spine. His hands found her chest, his hands grasping her breasts firmly. Her nipples hardened as he played with them.

Atisha moaned and arced her back, bringing her body closer to his. She could feel how hard he was, making her wet between her legs. She moved her hands to his waist and grabbed the sides of his tunic. She pulled up, trying to get it off.

Solas detached from her neck and sat back, reluctantly removing his hands from beneath her shirt. He pulled his tunic up and over his head, throwing it to the side. He wore an undershirt, which he quickly unbuttoned and also discarded.

Once his chest was bare, Atisha ran her hand up his stomach, feeling the hard muscle beneath. She shivered in anticipation and sat up, planting herself in his lap. Her hands continued to explore his chest while he continued to massage her neck with his mouth. She rolled her head to the other side, giving him more room to work his magic.

Solas' hands crept under her shirt and lifted it, but stopped before it had gone past her chest. He lifted his head and began looking around them, concern in his eyes.

Atisha growled in frustration, her loins more than a little wet. “Why did you stop?”

“Because of our chaperone.”

Atisha slumped back. She had completely forgotten about Alpha. “It would have interrupted us by now.” Holding Solas' shoulders for support, she swiveled her head around, but there was no sign of the wolf spirit.

“Which begs the question, why hasn't it? Can you sense where it is?”

Atisha closed her eyes and searched for the wolf through their connection. What she found surprised her. It was with the pack in another part of the Fade. After all of the grief it had given her about trusting Solas, it was leaving them alone.

Which meant that it had trusted him all along.

She whipped her head back around to Solas, her face going hard. “Hold on. Did Alpha know you are Fen'Harel?”

Solas eyes widened like a deer caught in the torchlight. He cleared his throat a few times before answering. “It did, yes.”

“And it didn't tell me?” Atisha seethed. Her hands balled into fists. It could have saved her a lot of trouble by disclosing that detail.

“Before you get angry at it, you should know that I asked it not to tell you. We were still getting to know each other and I didn't know how you would react to the information. I planned to tell you once we had gotten to know each other better.”

Atisha growled again, but a thought occurred to her. If she had known, would their relationship be the same? She would have loved him because Fen'U had loved him, even though the ancient elf could only remember a few things. By being ignorant of his true identity, she had been able to get to know him as he was now. There was no question about whether her feelings originated from Fen'U or herself.

She sighed and pulled him into another kiss, long and slow.

“Perhaps it is better this way,” she said softly.

“Perhaps. I have enjoyed getting to know you, Atisha. You have much in common with Fen'U, as is expected, but you are a unique individual. For every similarity between you, there is at least one difference. And I cherish those differences just as much as the similarities.”

Atisha smiled and nodded. “Thank you Solas. Now, since we know that we're alone, shall we continue?”

Their lips locked together and Solas resumed removing her shirt. He tossed it aside and took a moment to examine her, admiring curves that were normally hidden. He leaned down and gently kissed the top of her breast, his lips circling the nipple before taking it into his mouth.

Atisha groaned, the sensation of his tongue against her flesh sending fresh waves of pleasure through her groin.

He detached and let his lips trail across her flesh to the other side, teasing the hard nipple before latching his lips over it. His hands slid down her back, massaging her tight muscles. When they reached the top edge of her pants, they worked their way inside and firmly grasped her cheeks, pulling her closer to his erection.

Atisha took one hand off of his shoulders and quickly unlaced her pants, giving his hands more room to maneuver. Her hand went to his chest, playing with his nipples.

He groaned into her chest, his mouth continuing to suckle her breast. He slowly worked her pants down until her butt was fully exposed. His long fingers massaged her cheeks while pressing her firmly against his groin.

Solas lifted his head and planted a deep kiss on her lips. Then he eased her onto her back. His lips moved down her body, his tongue trailing behind. When he reached just above her vulva, he sat back and pulled her pants off the rest of the way, throwing them on the pile with the rest of their clothes.

He took a moment and examined her fully naked body. His fingers gently traced the scar on her stomach down to her loins, where his nails barely skimmed across her flesh. He lowered himself and kissed her inner thighs. He slowly moved closer to her sex, his tongue sending ripples up her spine.

Atisha moaned louder, her body rising up to meet him. His mouth covered her and his tongue played masterfully with her clit. Her hands grasped the back of his head, massaging his bald dome while he worked on her. First one, then two fingers slowly eased their way inside of her, back and forth in time with his tongue.

She could feel the pressure building higher and higher. She pressed herself further into him. His mouth latched tight and he sucked on her, his fingers keeping their steady rhythm. Just when she was about to reach climax, he released and sat back. His hands fumbled to undo his pants and he fell on top of her in his rush to get them off.

Atisha laughed and bit his lower lip, savoring the taste of herself on him.

Solas covered her lips with his while he situated himself between her legs. She spread them further to give him better access. Slowly, he eased his cock into her.

She gasped at the girth that forced her walls apart, but it was too slow and gentle. “Harder,” she whispered hoarsely into his ear.

She could feel him smile against her neck before gently biting it. Then, he rammed himself inside of her until his scrotum slapped against her. Atisha cried out and dug her nails into his back.

Solas groaned and pulled back, slamming into her again and again.

Atisha spread herself as far as she could, giving his hips as much room as possible. Her nails continued to leave marks on his back.

He grabbed her hands and raised them above her head, holding them there with one hand. The other slid down her arm and to her breast, which he firmly grabbed. His fingers worked at the flesh, alternating between squeezing and massaging.

Atisha's back arced higher and her hips matched his movements, taking him deeper inside of her. Before long, he had found the spot. She screamed when he hit it, the pressure reaching its breaking point.

She climaxed with a shout, her back arced as high as it would go. A few seconds later, she felt him release inside of her.

They collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily and hearts pounding. Atisha sighed contentedly, kissing his neck. She ran her fingers up his arm, reveling in the goosebumps that formed where their flesh met.

Solas lightly pecked her forehead, then rolled off of her and settled next to her. He placed his arm under her head. They lay quietly, gazing up at the murals on the ceiling.

Atisha rolled onto her side and flung her arm across his stomach, nuzzling his cheek with her nose. She felt relaxed in his embrace, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time.

It seemed that neither wanted to break the comfortable silence, the only sounds their breathing.

“Was this your first time?” Solas finally spoke up.

Atisha laughed. “Not by a long shot, Fenan, Fade or waking world. Would you like to know how many, as well?”

Solas chuckled. “No details necessary, thank you.” He wrapped his free arm around her, his hand sliding down to firmly grasp her cheek. He turned his head and planted his lips on hers, his cock arousing again.

Her body tugged. Dawn was approaching.

Atisha growled, not ready to leave yet. She wanted to mount him and ride him until he was screaming.

Solas sighed. “Time for you to go?”

“I could stay a bit longer,” she suggested, her voice low and husky, her fingers tracing circles on his chest.

“Mm, I do like the idea,” he smiled, reaching in for another kiss.

Atisha moved to meet him, but something in the back of her mind begged for attention. She pulled back and focused on the connection with her brother. If she had paid more attention to it, she would have known that he was on his way to the ruins. And that he would be there in a few hours.

“Shit.”

Solas pulled up short, raising an eyebrow. “Is it something I said?”

She turned back to him, a scowl on her face. “No. As usual, my brother has the worst timing. He's going to be here today.”

His brows knit together. “How do you know that?”

Atisha sighed, realizing that she had never told him about the unique bond that the two shared. “We're connected somehow. When one is injured, the other feels it. When magic touches one, the other is also affected. And we always know where the other one is. I think that there's a range on it, though. When mother took me to the shrine, I felt our connection weaken and then it seemed to disappear after a few days of travel. Since then, I haven't really had a chance to test it.”

“Can you sense each others thoughts?”

Atisha laughed, rolling her head back. It wasn't the first time she had been asked, but it somehow sounded ludicrous coming from him. She wiped a stray tear from her eye. “No, thank the spirits. I honestly don't want to know what goes through my brother's head some days.”

Solas's smile broadened and he laughed as well. “Yes, I imagine it could become awkward.” He leaned in for another kiss, massaging her back.

Atisha eagerly returned it, pressing herself closer against him. She finally pulled away, reluctantly. “I need to prepare. If he keeps a steady pace, he'll be here by noon.”

Solas growled and leaned in for another kiss.

She put her finger on his lips, gently pushing him away. “No, trickster.” She pecked him on the cheek and stood up. She didn't bother retrieving her clothes, there was no need.

He grabbed her hands and rose to his feet, pressing his forehead against hers. “Will I see you tonight?”

“You've seen me every night for the past two months. What makes you think I'm about to stop now?”

“Perhaps you've gotten what you want from me and now that you've satisfied yourself, you'll toss me aside.”

Atisha laughed and slapped his shoulder. “While I have done that before, you've got nothing to worry about. Not after that performance. Besides, I always tell temporary lovers up front that it won't go any further.”

He smiled down at her and brought a hand up to caress you cheek. “Then I shall detain you no longer, vhenan,” he whispered.

She reached up and locked lips with him, slow and deep. She moaned when she pulled away. “Until tonight, Fenan.”

Then, she woke up.


	8. Chapter 8

Atisha woke to morning sun spilling across her bed roll, but she didn't move. Her mind was still racing from that had happened with Solas. She had found Fen'Harel, and now he was her fenan. She could still feel his lips against hers, his fingers running along her flesh. She closed her eyes and savored the memory of his touch. Her body shivered. A smile crept across her face.

Her smile disappeared when she focused on the connection with Enasalin. He was on the move and going at a good clip. He might arrive sooner than she had thought. That gave Atisha only a couple of hours to prepare for him. She sighed and slowly stood up. The first thing in order was a bath. Dried sweat clung to her body and she could feel wetness between her legs. The last thing she needed was for Enasalin to be asking who she was spending time with when there was obviously no one else here.

Atisha had found a pond during her exploration of the grounds. She walked down to it now, bringing some of her clothes that needed a wash. When she arrived, she stripped down and slowly lowered herself into the water. The chill bit at her, waking her up even more. She fully submerged herself and scrubbed at her scalp. Once that was done, she broke the surface, water dripping. She grabbed some gravel off of the bottom and used it to scrub down the rest of her body.

Once finished, she climbed out and laid on the bank, letting the early morning sun dry her off. She stretched her body, enjoying the soft, luxuriously thick grass. Her mind wandered to the last man that had made her feel safe and happy, her husband Darlen. A soft smile played across her lips.

He hadn't been Dalish born, which is probably why they had gotten along so well. Some of the hunters found him wandering in the woods of eastern Orlais. He had run away from the alienage in Val Chevin to escape a noble's wrath, whose advances he had rebuked.

Darlen was skilled at surviving in the wilds. He had been lost in the woods for two weeks by the time the hunters stumbled across him. When Atisha examined him, he was a little malnourished, but otherwise fine.

Neron offered to let him stay with the clan, to teach him the Dalish ways. Darlen eagerly accepted. He trained with the sword and bow, both of which he picked up quickly. Atisha tutored him in the elvhen language, which took him considerably longer. But the lessons gave them time to get to know each other.

Darlen was intelligent, kind, witty, and had a sense of humor that few in the clan besides Atisha appreciated. It hadn't taken them long to become friends. When Atisha went on expeditions to ruins, he was her preferred escort. Often times it would just be the two of them. After a few trips like that, they were studying more than just the ruins.

Atisha forced herself to stop the memories there. It only led to pain.

Her hair was still damp, but the rest of her was dry. She washed the clothing she had brought with her and laid it out on some nearby rocks, then put on the clean outfit she had brought with her.

Enasalin was closer, only an hour and a half away.

He would probably be hungry when he arrived. Having food prepared for him would be the best way to keep his ire to a minimum. She had been gone a lot longer than two weeks, which made her wonder why he hadn't come sooner.

She would ask him when it came up, which it would. For now, she had to see about some meat for the meal. There was a clearing not far away that seemed to have a steady supply of rabbits. She headed there now, taking her staff.

* * *

Enasalin could only stare at the vast structure before him. The architecture was reminiscent of some of the ruins he had seen in the Dales with high arches and decorative pillars that branched out like trees. But that was where the similarities ended. He couldn't tell what kind of stone had been used to construct it, he was still too far away, but he could tell that it wasn't the same as what was used in the Dales.

No wonder Atisha had stayed away for so long. This place was probably a gold mine of memories for her to view. He had wanted to come get her sooner, but the Keeper had insisted that as long as she wasn't in danger, it was better for Atisha to stay at the ruins.

Enasalin had grudgingly agreed. Atisha's absence had only riled the hunters up more, the tension growing steadily over the past two months. He would have left her longer, but the clan was getting ready to move on. Preparations were already underway and would likely be done by the time they returned. He had taken the liberty of making sure Atisha's aravel was ready for the move.

He sighed deeply and moved past the rusted front gate. He followed their connection to the side of the building.

Atisha was waiting for him, a rabbit cooking over a fire pit. The wind blew the scent of roasting meat towards him, making his stomach growl.

She smiled sweetly at him, patting the spot on the ground next to her. “Just a few more minutes and the rabbit will be done. I've got some roasted vegetables that you can munch on while we wait.”

Enasalin growled and took a spot across the fire from her. He wanted to be angry at her for not coming back sooner, but she always seemed to know how to calm him down. It usually involved food, and she was a damn good cook.

Atisha handed a bowl across the fire to him and he grudgingly took it. It only took one bite to know that she had found some spices growing nearby. The flavor exploded in his mouth, and the vegetables were still a little crunchy, just the way he liked them. His anger dissipated a little more with each bite.

“Damn you, woman,” he muttered around a mouthful of roasted pepper.

Atisha giggled and picked up her own bowl. “You know you love me.”

Enasalin grumbled through a mouthful of extremely tasty vegetables. She was right, of course. She was his baby sister, despite there only being a few minutes between them. He was never able to stay mad at her for long.

They ate in silence. Enasalin was too hungry to do much talking. The rabbit was even more delicious than it smelled, if that was possible. It didn't take long for the two of them to polish off the meat and vegetables. He set his bowl aside and put his arms behind him, leaning back. He crossed his legs and sighed.

“This place reminds me of the Dales. I didn't think that the elves were given any other land.”

A large smile spread across Atisha's face, her eyes glowing with excitement. “They're older than that. Much older.”

Enasalin slowly raised his head to look at her across the fire. “You mean ancient?” Atisha nodded her head, barely able to contain herself. Enasalin sat up, his eyes wide in disbelief. “How is that possible? Shouldn't they be dust by now?”

She shook her head. “No. The Veil is extremely thin here. There are rips all over the place. Places like this are extremely well preserved. The memories are faded, but there's still enough to piece together a few things. This place belonged to Mythal. She lived here!”

His mouth dropped. “We need to tell the Keeper! She'll want a full expedition.”

Then he remembered why they were leaving the area. Some shemlen had found their encampment. They had taken to watching the elves. Istimaethoriel wanted to avoid a confrontation, and so had ordered everyone to start packing.

He shook his head. “But we're getting ready to leave. That's why I'm here. They should be ready to leave once we get back.”

Atisha's face dropped. “There's still so much to learn here, though. We could spend years here and still have more to learn!”

“The shems are watching the camp. If a large expedition leaves, they'll be followed. And then the shems will know where to find this place. We can't risk that. They've already stolen too much from us.”

Atisha growled, the fierceness making Enasalin nervous. She didn't do it often with him, and it usually meant he had gone too far. Knowing what she was capable of, he knew how unwise it was to make her mad. Thankfully, she didn't stay mad at him for very long, either.

“You don't have to tell me that. I've seen the battles in the Dales, the devastation that the Orlesian army wrought. I've seen the last stand that ended in the death of the last Emerald Knights. So don't lecture me on what has been taken from us.”

Enasalin held up one hand, motioning for her to calm down. “You're right. I'm sorry. But it doesn't change the fact that we have to leave.”

Atisha looked off into the distance. She frowned and her face scrunched up.

He knew that look. She was thinking about doing something that he wouldn't like.

“Fine. I'll go back with you,” she finally proclaimed, still looking away from him.

That didn't sound right. Atisha never gave up without a fight. Enasalin leaned forward, squinting at her suspiciously. Times like this made him wish they could read each others minds. He decided to play along for now. She would tell him something eventually.

“Good. I should warn you, though. The hunters have only gotten more restless, so don't expect a warm welcome.”

“I never do.”

Another silence stretched between them. Enasalin shifted uncomfortably. He could sit still and quiet on the hunt better than anyone else in the clan; but when it was around the camp fire, he preferred there to be some kind of sound.

“We should get going in a bit. I told the Keeper it would take about a week for us to get back.”

“I still need to pack. Give me about an hour.”

She got up and walked into the building, leaving Enasalin alone.

* * *

Atisha wanted to be angry, but Enasalin was just the messenger. It wouldn't do her any good to get upset with him. Besides, she could never stay angry at him long. Instead, she rolled up her bedding and strapped it to her pack. Then she went down to the pond and gathered up her damp clothing. She would have to lay them out again when they stopped for the night.

She thought about going into the Fade to talk with Solas, but she doubted that he stayed in the ruins all day. He was likely elsewhere taking care of whatever plans he had in motion. She would have to wait until tonight.

Sighing heavily, she tromped back to the camp fire. Enasalin was still there, but he had fallen asleep. She couldn't help smiling. He looked peaceful, not something she saw often. She didn't want to wake him, but they had to get moving.

Atisha leaned down and shook him lightly.

Enasalin grunted and turned over. “Five more minutes,” he muttered groggily.

“And then you'll want another five minutes, and another, and another,” she chided. “Get up, lazy bones. It's time to head back.” She shook him again.

He grumbled and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He yawned and stretched, then slowly made his way to his feet. He stretched again.

Atisha sighed and put out the fire while he took his sweet time. He was trying to annoy her and she wasn't going to let him. She buried the ashes. Once that was done, she picked up her pack and slung it over her back.

“Shall we be off?” Atisha suggested, knowing what his response would be.

Enasalin cracked a grin. “We're always off. But we should get going.”

Atisha smiled and shook her head, leading her brother off of the grounds. When they reached the gate, she stopped to take one last look at the building. There was still so much to see, both in the Fade and the waking world. She wanted to stay, but knew that she couldn't.

She sighed and turned away from the summer palace. Then she followed her brother into the woods. It did not take long for the trees to engulf the building and block it from view.

At least she could still visit it in the Fade.

* * *

Solas was waiting for her in the chamber off of the ballroom. The moment she appeared in front of him, his face lit up. He took her in his arms, his lips pressing hungrily against hers. His hands slid down her back and over her butt. He firmly grabbed her cheeks and squeezed.

Atisha moaned into his mouth and wrapped her right leg around his waist. She pressed into him, his hardness sending a thrill through her loins. Spirits she wanted him, but she knew that she had to hold back. She growled and pulled away.

Solas tried to follow her, but she moved too far back. He growled at her.

She put her finger on his mouth. “I'm traveling with my brother and I tend to... moan in my sleep.”

Solas pulled back, chuckling. “Yes, that could be awkward in the morning.”

“Thank you for understanding,” she sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. She didn't move, enjoying his arms around her. There were important matters to discuss tonight, though. Atisha snuggled closer to him, reluctant to let the moment pass. She could feel her body tensing at the thought of what she needed to say.

Solas noticed. He rubbed his hands up and down her back. “Is everything all right?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “The clan is leaving the area. Some shemlens have been watching the camp and the Keeper is getting nervous. We're heading back to join up with them before they leave.”

“And then you won't be able to reach the ruins in the Fade.”

“Exactly. The Fade is a big place, and I'm rather limited in how far I can travel. Is there some way for you to find me?”

“There is an herbal mixture that when burned acts like a signal fire in the Fade. I can sense where it is and come to you, no matter where you are. It can be in an incense burner or a camp fire, which ever is more readily available to you. It is one part felandris and three parts black lotus.”

“The clan has some, but they might not be able to spare any. If they can't, I'll find an herbalist after I leave them.”

Solas stiffened and pulled back. His hands gripped her shoulders. He looked into her eyes, frowning. “While I applaud your decision, I wonder about the promise you made to Flemeth.”

“A promise made before I knew how dangerous staying with the clan would be. Even now the newest generation of hunters plan how they will mark me. I have endured too much abuse in a place that is supposed to be safe. It ends now.”

His frown deepened and he pulled her back into his embrace. “If I could take this pain from you, I gladly would.”

Atisha buried her face in his chest. “And then I would not be the woman you know.”

Solas nodded in agreement. His arms tightened around her and his lips brushed across her forehead. “Where will you go? What will you do?”

Questions she had thought about long, hard, and often. The world was a dangerous place for a lone elvhen woman, especially a mage. She knew how to avoid the dangers, but there was always safety in numbers.

“I thought that I might join the rebel mages. My skills and knowledge could prove useful in the war. You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?”

Solas chuckled. “Of course I do, but I'm assuming that you already knew that. They are currently holed up in a fort outside of Cumberland. Fiona is in talks with King Alistair about seeking sanctuary in Fereldan. It looks like he might offer it, too. It helps that his mistress was a member of the Fereldan Circle.”

Atisha snorted. “I bet. How soon do you think the talks will wrap up?”

“Probably within the next few days. If you head to Cumberland, they will likely be gone by the time you arrive. They will relocate to either Amaranthine or Redcliffe. That detail has not been hammered out, yet. If you head for Highever, you would be going the right direction whichever town they end up in. I will let you know which it is as soon as I know.”

“Thank you, Solas. For everything.” She reached up and planted her lips on his.

Solas gladly returned the kiss, his nails digging into her back. She could tell that he wanted more. Spirits, so did she. Reluctantly, she stepped back.

“One more thing, Fenan. You said that you wanted me as an agent. An agent for what?”

He remained silent, his fingers brushing up her arm to her cheek. “To correct a mistake and help the People be what they were before.”

“Several mistakes have been made throughout history. Which one do you speak of?”

“The Veil. I had no other course of action when I erected it, but I did not fully realize that I would be dooming the elvhen to a slower demise.”

Atisha's breath caught in her throat. Fen'U had already perished when the Veil had been put up, but she had seen the devastation it had caused. Architecture sustained by magic crumbled, crushing people caught beneath it. Entire towns were trapped in the Fade, their occupants dying of thirst and starvation if they didn't take their own lives first. Other places were trapped between, the people there facing the same fate.

Fen'U had been trapped in the Fade, her spirit wandering from place to place in search of anyone she might have known in life. She had found a few and spent their dying moments with them. Their spirits had moved on, but Fen'U could not bring herself to leave. Not while Mythal's murderers still lived.

But she could not reach them in their Black City, and so she had bided her time until Asha'bellanar had found someone willing to share a body with her.

“You made it to trap the Evanuris.”

“Yes. And in doing so, stripped the People of what made them elvhen.”

“They lost their immortality. That's why my brother and I have lived for so long. The wolf spirit connects us to the Fade.”

“Correct again.”

“And now you're going to tear down the Veil.” The magnitude of what he planned shocked her. If there had been that much chaos when it was erected, how much would there be when it disappeared?

“Is there any way to lessen the destruction it will cause?”

Solas shook his head sadly. “I'm afraid not, no.”

“And the Evanuris? You have a way of dealing with them?”

“I have found a way, yes.”

Atisha could feel the emotions welling up in Fen'U; delight and vengeance chief among them. She would give anything to see Mythal's killers lying dead at her feet. As for Atisha, with the Veil gone, she wouldn't need the spirits to survive. When Asha'bellanar came to request her payment, Atisha wouldn't have to fear a slow and painful death if she said no.

“I want to help.”

Solas sighed and lowered his head. “I was afraid you would. I can't ask this of you, Atisha.”

“Your not asking. I'm offering. You said so yourself. My skills would be very useful.”

“No. Atisha, I can't...”

“You had no problem when Fen'U helped.”

“And it got her killed!”

Tears streamed down his face and his nails bit into her arms. His body shook with his sobs. He fell to his knees, his hands sliding down to hold hers. He looked up into her eyes, his own filled with fear. “I was the one who suggested Fen'U guard Mythal that day. I left them at the temple when I knew that there was an assassin on the way. I thought that they would be safe. I was so sure of everything that I couldn't see the danger was already there.”

Atisha gazed down at him, her heart heavy. She knelt in front of him and wrapped her arms around him, bringing his head to rest on her shoulder. Then she leaned her cheek against him.

“She doesn't blame you, Solas, because it wasn't your fault. Even she didn't expect who the assassin was. She let her guard down.”

“I could have...”

“Could have what? Dropped your mission and stayed holed up at the temple with them? Fen'U knew that dying was a possibility. She accepted it and laid down her life for a cause that she believed in. Do you think that I would be able to do anything less? To just sit on the sidelines when I could be helping make things better? You know I can't. She is too much a part of me to allow it.”

Solas's sobbing slowed. He sniffled and pulled away from her, his eyes rimmed in red. His hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into it, closing her eyes.

“I would expect no less. It is part of what I love about both of you, but it is also what worries me the most. I lost Fen'U because of my hubris. The thought of loosing you...” He pulled her close and sealed his lips over hers.

She could feel his pain in the kiss, so much pain. Her hands went to the side of his head and held him close.

Fen'U understood his pain all to well. She had blamed herself for Mythal's death, had agonized over how she had missed the signs of who the assassin was. Now, she could not remember their name or face, only that it had been someone close to Mythal. She could still feel the pain of their poisoned blade sliding through her belly. At least her own sword had made it to their heart.

Solas ended the kiss and hugged Atisha close, cradling her in his arms. “I will accept your offer and do my best not to let my fear get in the way.”

Atisha sighed and snuggled into his chest. “First I must deal with the clan. Then I am all yours.”


End file.
